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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28439655">The Saga of the Wolf-Kissed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnsinkableSappho/pseuds/TheUnsinkableSappho'>TheUnsinkableSappho</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Assassin's Creed - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/F, Inauthentic Representation, Rated M for future content, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:07:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>50,423</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28439655</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnsinkableSappho/pseuds/TheUnsinkableSappho</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A between-the-scenes fic set throughout the main plot of Assassin's Creed: Valhalla. Revolves around the Eivor/Randvi romance.</p><p>Canon Compliant until post-Jorvik, then canon divergent.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eivor/Randvi (Assassin's Creed)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>405</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Scene 1: 	Varin &amp; Rosta's funeral.<br/>Scene 2: 	Sigurd and Randvi’s wedding.<br/>Scene 3: 	Eivor visits Valka for advice. Dag follows her and hears something he shouldn’t.</p><p>Currently, this is all un-beta'd. I am looking for a beta for the rest of the fic, if anyone is interested.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          <span class="u"> 25 Mörsugur, 856 (Óðinsdagr) </span></p><p>“Eivor!” Styrbjorn’s gruff voice, deep and booming and harsher than the one she was used to from her Father, cut through the chill winter air. “I know you are up there. Get down from there!” There was a scolding tone to his voice and she flinched away from the sound. She flattened herself down between her parents, curling tightly against her Mother’s side. Earlier he had caught her trying to climb the pyre and he had been so cross with her for it.</p><p>“Have some mercy, would you, Styrbjorn?” Svala’s voice followed and Eivor buried her face against her Mother’s cloak. If she tried really hard she could still smell the herbs and flowers her Mother had always packed with their clothes clinging to her. Tears pricked her eyes again and she shuddered against her Mother’s body. It was too still, too cold… too quiet. She couldn’t even hear the soft thump of her heart anymore.</p><p>“The rite starts in an hour, Svala. She is too o-”</p><p>“She is a <em> child </em> still, Styrbjorn. Go, deal with other matters. I will handle Eivor.” She couldn’t hear anything for a while, and then the soft crunch of boots on old snow. They faded away, and near perfect silence reigned. Eivor fisted her hands in her Mother’s cloak. Around the small village other pyres had been erected as well. They were mostly larger, but not as tall. As the leaders of their Clan, her parents had the highest pyre. It had been hard for her to clamor up the frost dampened logs to get up here, and she wasn’t going to come down this time. Her neck ached in a constant throbbing pain where the bite had been cauterized, and her arm hurt, and her leg hurt. All of her hurt, but it was nothing compared to the aching in her chest.</p><p>“Eivor,” Svala’s voice was soft where Styrbjorn had been demanding. Eivor sniffled loudly and did not answer her, preferring to pretend she could not hear her. She was going to stay with her parents. She wanted to go to Valhalla with them. “Eivor, child, you will have to come down soon.” Eivor shook her head even though Svala could not see her. But while she expected Svala to come up onto the pyre after her, nothing happened. Instead she heard the soft crunch of boots again after several minutes.</p><p>“I can get her down,” Sigurd’s voice cut in. He sounded tired, weary. But his voice was enough to make Eivor lift her head. Still, she was not getting down. Not even Sigurd could make her leave. She heard Svala sigh gently.</p><p>“You may try, Sigurd. Be gentle with her. Go on, I will stay down here.” A few seconds later she heard Sigurd grunting as he climbed up onto the pyre, and less than a minute later he was crouching on the edge of it. Watching her. Eivor looked at him, eyes as red as her wind-burnt cheeks, puffy and swollen from her tears. He gave her a sad smile and moved to join her, carefully sitting down in the narrow space between the two bodies. Sigurd was clearly very uncomfortable being up there, but he reached out to gently touch her.</p><p>Eivor let go of her Mother’s cloak with one hand and flung herself against Sigurd, burying her face against his chest and wrapping her free hand around him. The tears started to flow again and they wet his tunic as she felt his arms wrap around her carefully.</p><p>“It’s okay, cub,” Sigurd spoke softly, but a hint of tease in the not always kind nickname he had given her, as he held her. “You can cry it out. But you know you can’t be up here.” Eivor shook her head against his chest and he sighed softly. “I know. But you can’t.”</p><p>“I want to go to Valhalla with them,” Eivor cried against his shirt.</p><p>“Valhalla isn’t ready yet for someone like you,” Sigurd reached down and touched her hair, getting her to look up at him. “You’re way too scary for Valhalla right now. Odin would soil his pants if you showed up. No, I’m afraid you’re too tough.” Eivor managed a sad little giggle and shook her head. She let go of her Mother’s cloak and wiped her nose that was running from crying so much. Sigurd let out a dramatically heavy sigh.</p><p>“No no, I’m afraid you can’t go to Valhalla. You’ll have to get old and fat before they’ll let you in. You’d scare off Fenrir all by yourself and leave no fight for anyone else.” Eivor looked up at him with wide eyes and shook her head.</p><p>“Would not! I’d let you kill Fenrir, Sigurd!” Some of the sadness had left Eivor’s voice now, distracted by Sigurd’s mentions of glory and Ragnarok. “Like the heroes of old!” Sigurd laughed and nodded.</p><p>“You would share your glory with me, cub?” He beamed a warm smile at her and Eivor nodded emphatically. “Well to do that we’ll have to climb down from here, okay?” That returned some of the crushing sadness and Eivor looked over at her Mother’s body. Her lip trembled but she nodded stiffly. Sigurd stood up slowly, keeping his hold on Eivor. She followed him to the edge and let him help her down. Svala caught her, lowering her safely to the ground.</p><p>                           ----------------------------------------</p><p>The sun had fallen from the sky and darkness would have reigned over the dead village if not for the half dozen funeral pyres already burning around them. The pyre of Varin and Rosta remained the last to light. Eivor could feel the frigid winter wind on her neck and the faint prickle of heat it carried with it from the other fires.</p><p>Eivor stood next to Styrbjorn, facing the crowd of people. Survivors of Kjotve’s attack, members of the Raven Clan who had come from Fornburg to help after. Sigurd was on Styrbjorn’s opposite side, looking stoic. Eivor, for her part, looked numb, staring blankly ahead. Sigurd had managed to calm her, but there was nothing anyone could do to blunt this moment for her. Styrbjorn was talking, addressing the gathered mourners, but Eivor wasn’t listening.</p><p>“Eivor,” Styrbjorn’s voice finally cut through and she looked up at him. He held a torch out to her in one hand, watching her expectantly. Eivor stared at the torch, the bright light of the flames burning her already tear burned eyes. Then she looked up at him and shook her head slightly. He frowned and pushed the torch at her a little more insistently.</p><p>“I don’t want to,” she said in the tiniest voice, afraid to tell him no in front of everyone. His frown worsened for a half second. Eivor remembered her Father explaining to her what it meant for them to have a King now, that a King was someone you must obey, by your oath. Tears started to wet her eyes again as Styrbjorn twisted and started to kneel down for her. She turned and ran away from him.</p><p>Eivor did not get far. Svala caught her at the edge of the crowd, stepping into her path. She crashed into her hard and started to tumble back, but Svala’s hands were around her in an instant, catching her and at the same time holding her close. Eivor buried her face in Svala’s dress, clutching at her tightly. Her soft, reassuring hum reached her eyes and she was calmed by it a little.</p><p>“Easy, Eivor. Breathe, child.” Svala’s voice was feather light and soothing. Eivor could not look up to see the rather ugly look she was giving Styrbjorn while the rest of the attendees stood by in awkward discomfort. For a few minutes there was nothing but uncomfortable silence as she tried to ease Eivor back to calm.</p><p>“What if I help you, Eivor?” Gunnar’s gruff voice, sounding like his throat was lined with sharp rocks, was surprisingly quiet for such a loud man. He already wore the blue tunic of the Ravens but he squatted down next to Eivor and Svala. Beneath the tunic a series of bandages only just held his arm in place where his shoulder had been dislocated in the attack. Svala smiled at him faintly.</p><p>Eivor turned her head a little so that she could peek at him with one eye. After a second of hesitation she nodded. Gunnar smiled at her and reached out for her. She peeled herself away from Svala, who’s firm and comforting grip softened to release her. Gunnar scooped Eivor into his good arm and stood, face twisting in pain at the act.</p><p>“You’ll have to hold the torch, little berserker. My arm is all full up of you,” he balanced Eivor against his side, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist as he carried her back to Styrbjorn and the pyre. To his credit, Styrbjorn looked both saddened and chastised by Eivor’s strong reaction. Gunnar gave him a nod and Eivor reached out with both hands to take the torch, then he carried her up to the edge of the pyre.</p><p>“Put it there, among the straw,” Gunnar guided her and Eivor laid the torch there carefully. The flames spread fast as he stepped back, and within a few minutes Varin’s cloak caught fire. Eivor’s lip wobbled dangerously as she watched, tears rolling down her cheeks anew.</p><p>“It is okay to cry, little berserker,” Gunnar whispered to her softly, his own voice tainted with tears. When she looked up at his face she could see water gathering in the corners of his eyes. “Even wise Odin weeps before a pyre.”</p><p>                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>          15<span class="u"> Tvímánuður, 869 (Sunnudagr) </span></p><p>
  <em>      Harken well in the hall of kings </em>
</p><p>It started with a single warrior, belting out the steady beat of the words easily. Before he had even finished the line the heavy thump of fists on chests filled the longhouse. Eivor left her plate and cup, rising silently and retreating to the dark doorway of the longhouse. She leaned against the frame, her entire body tense and her eyes cast down at the floor. It had actually been quite some time since she had heard the song, most of the warriors here did not sing it when she was around. A great many of them could still remember.</p><p>
  <em>           <span class="u"></span>On ocean-steed my words gain wings </em>
</p><p>It was less the betrayal that forbade the song, but a girl sobbing and screaming for her Mother as the song rose to fill a longhouse. She was still embarrassed at the memory of it, though Svala had told her that even the great warriors felt such things inside of them. She had carried her out of an eerily silent longhouse, to the docks, sat with her while she cried. Told her that her tears did not make her weaker than any great drengr, it was not her fault she was too little to hold it all inside of her.</p><p>
  <em>      Odin’s mead, I forth will bring </em>
</p><p>When the song did break out, usually Sigurd would help her slip out unnoticed. Or he would make the singer stop. He’d always been rather protective of her, which made sense since he had saved her life that night. But tonight he was rabble rousing with the rest, revelling in the attention as he mounted one of the tables. He sang as loud as the rest, louder maybe. If she stopped to look at him she could tell he was well into his mead by now. Not that Eivor wanted him to intervene. She wasn’t trying to ruin anyone’s evening.</p><p>
  <em>      For noble deeds, thine honour sing </em>
</p><p>Shutting her eyes only made it worse. With her eyes closed she could see her Mother laughing, feel her Father’s arms supporting her as he swung her about with him. So she kept her eyes open, staring down at the floor as the song shook the rafters of the longhouse. It had been years since she had let the song truly upset her, and she wasn’t about to let it ruin her own brother’s wedding. Sigurd was excited about the wedding. And who could blame him? Randvi was an undeniable beauty. Eivor had only spoken to her a few times.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>      The brave men slain, Valkyrjur wakes </em>
</p><p>“Are you unwell?” The soft voice broke Eivor’s defensive silence. She looked up to find Randvi standing close to her, concern showing plainly on her face.</p><p>“I am well,” Eivor answered automatically. She was not going to spoil Randvi and Sigurd’s important moment with her childishness.</p><p>“I am sorry, but you look as if a dark cloud hangs over your head,” Randvi prodded gently, moving to lean against the frame with her, their shoulders touching. Eivor sighed and cast her eyes around the room. The revelry was only just picking up as everyone in the hall took up the song.</p><p>
  <em>      Reward for strain to Valholl takes </em>
</p><p>“I do not care for this song, that is all.” If only it were such a simple explanation. Eivor could swallow a great many things she did not care for, but never this. It haunted her. She turned her eyes away from the room to look to Randvi instead. “You do not sing with the others?”</p><p>“I cannot sing when I see one of us so unhappy,” Randvi answered with seeming ease. Eivor felt something tighten in her chest. She swallowed against the uncomfortable feeling.</p><p>“You have adopted us so quickly then?”</p><p>“Some more quickly than others, I should think.”</p><p>
  <em>      Then horn resounds the mighty hall </em>
</p><p>Eivor let silence fall between them as the song continued to rush in her ears like the pulse of battle. Randvi’s presence was comforting in a way she could not ever remember feeling, and she barely knew the woman. But she did not want her to leave, or take her silence as disapproval. Eivor was grateful for her attention.</p><p>“My father was singing this song when Kjotve…” the words felt like such a heavy thing on her tongue. Randvi would know of Varin’s death. Tales of Kjotve’s attack that night had spread throughout the Norse world. Such betrayals always did.</p><p>
  <em>      For those who fight, for those who fall </em>
</p><p>Eivor looked to Randvi again and was surprised at the honest regret and sadness she saw there. In her experience few people displayed their feelings so easily.</p><p>“I am sorry. I did not know.” Eivor could only just hear Randvi’s voice over the noise of the singers now. The stamping of boots and pounding of chests, the echo of Sigurd’s prowess as he leapt between tables to enjoy the revelry. She only shook her head at Randvi’s apology.</p><p>“Do not apologize. The burden sits on me for allowing this to disrupt your wedding feast.”</p><p>“You are hardly a disruption, Eivor.”</p><p>
  <em>      For those who fight, for those who fall! </em>
</p><p>Eivor had to look away at Randvi’s answer. It felt weird. Too close, too raw. And it made her chest clench again in a way she did not at all like. Between them there was silence again as the song continued.</p><p>‘<em> We’re under attack!! Kjotve’s clan </em>-’ She shook her head, trying to force the memory to banish itself for her. When she looked back at Randvi she forced a change of subject.</p><p>“This is the grandest wedding feast I have ever seen. Sigurd is a lucky man to have you as wife, Randvi.”</p><p>“Yes, he is, isn’t he?” Randvi smirked.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>      Warlord weaves his web of fear </em>
</p><p>Eivor relaxed a little as the new verse filled the air. This part was easier. Kjotve’s clan had attacked before they got this far, so it did not ring inside her head like a warning bell in the same way. She managed a smile for Randvi, a little uncomfortable with the concern the woman was showing for her. It felt different from the protective concern she was used to from Styrbjorn and Sigurd. Even that concern had evaporated as she grew older, grew strong enough to protect her own emotions.</p><p>“I would see you return to your wedding feast, Randvi.”</p><p>
  <em>      Each man gets his fated share </em>
</p><p>Randvi was quiet for a moment, and Eivor was struck with it being the first time that Randvi had not had an immediate answer for her. She studied Randvi’s face in the dim light of the longhouse and was again struck by her beauty. But there was more to it than her features: the sparkling depth of her eyes, the sunlit fire of her hair, the subtle spread of her eyebrows when she was trying not to smile. Eivor had spent a lot of time studying Randvi’s face in the short week she had known her. Maybe too much time.</p><p>
  <em>      Blood red search the warrior shield </em>
</p><p>“And I would see the best drengr of the Raven clan with a jug of mead in her hand, a smile on her lips, and a light heart,” Randvi finally answered, the corners of her mouth tugging up into a smile. Though she had not seen it, Eivor got the impression that Randvi actually had quite the sense of humor.</p><p>“I am afraid you are much too concerned with me at the moment. This is your wedding. You should be at least half as drunk as your new husband.” Randvi laughed and Eivor felt all of her insides tighten violently.</p><p>
  <em>      Ravens scan the battlefield </em>
</p><p>“While I can certainly hold my own in a drinking battle, I hardly think a dead bride is a good omen at a wedding,” Randvi teased, the laughter still lifting her voice. Eivor felt as if just hearing that sound every day for the rest of her life was all she would ever need again. She gave her head a slight shake. That was a weird thought. Where had that come from? Wherever it had come from, it needed to go back there. Eivor could not think such thoughts about her brother’s wife.</p><p>“If I drink, you will go back?”</p><p>
  <em>      Ravens scan the battlefield! </em>
</p><p>Eivor arched an eyebrow when Randvi shook her head in answer. She opened her mouth to speak, but Randvi beat her to it.</p><p>“No. I will go back to the feast when I know you are okay.” There was that twisting, tight, uncomfortable feeling in her stomach again. It was followed by confusion. Eivor barely knew Randvi, and Randvi barely knew her. So why was Randvi so bothered? No one else was. And why was she so bothered by Randvi being bothered.</p><p>Eivor’s head reeled at the circle of thoughts she was letting herself get trapped in. This was bad.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>      We beat and blazed our trail of red </em>
</p><p>After a moment of silence, Eivor finally nodded to Randvi.</p><p>“Alright, very well. You win this round, <em> ulv </em> <b> <em>,</em> </b>” and Randvi’s responding smirk made a dangerous assault on her insides again. She would kill a thousand men to see Randvi smirk like that. “I promise you that I am fine. It is an old wound, one that bothers me but will not send me to Valhalla.” This time, when she smiled at Randvi, it felt real. Judging from the way Randvi studied her face, it looked genuine as well. After a moment, Randvi straightened away from the frame of the door.</p><p>
  <em>      Till Odin gazed upon the dead </em>
</p><p>Randvi seemed to believe her at last, and the truth was she did feel better. About the song, at least. The way her chest seemed to alternate between a crushing weight and a weightless fluttering depending on Randvi’s expression was far more bothersome. Eivor smiled as Randvi straightened away from the door frame and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.</p><p>“Good. Then I expect to see you with a mug in your hand in a few minutes.” Randvi’s smile was like the sun, even in the dim light of flickering torches and moonlight. Eivor could not help returning it.</p><p>
  <em>      Then horn resounds the mighty hall </em>
</p><p>“Then you had best tell them to fetch another barrel, I can drink Sigurd under the table,” Eivor taunted back with a lightness she both did and did not feel. This earned her a laugh from Randvi and her own smile widened.</p><p>“I shall have them fetch two then. You haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen a wolf drink, Wolf-Kissed.” Before Eivor could make retort, Randvi was walking back into the longhouse. The short redhead was swallowed up by the crowd of the clan, but Eivor’s eyes did not leave her. As if Randvi was a beacon in the dark.</p><p>
  <em>      For those who fight, and those who fall </em>
</p><p>Eivor let out a breath she had been holding for a thousand years. Randvi blended into the Ravens so smoothly, as if it had always been her place among them. Sigurd was swaying dangerously atop a table, he roared Randvi’s name when he spotted her. With all the drunken grace of a blind  boar, Sigurd dropped down onto a bench and reached for Randvi, tugging her up onto the table with him. Randvi was laughing as she joined him, their hands joined as they began to dance. Randvi was saying something to Sigurd, but he pulled her into a kiss.</p><p>
  <em>      For those who fight, and those who fall! </em>
</p><p>Eivor looked away even as those not singing cheered their approval. Her stomach twisted, but even in that discomfort, she could feel the warmth of the feast’s energy seeping back into her bones. Eivor would keep her word to Randvi, and she would rejoin the feast. She would drink herself into a stupor the likes of which she had never felt before. That was what weddings were for. And maybe that would be enough to make whatever this was go away and never come back. But even as she thought it, she knew she was not lucky enough for that. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>      May horns resound the mighty hall </em>
</p><p>Whatever this feeling was, she could already tell it had set up residence in her heart and would not be leaving soon. Eivor shook her head at herself as the song worked its way to its conclusion. Good riddance. It was a misery having the most popular hall song tied to such a torment, but she had long ago given up on the hope the pain would fade. Her eyes found Randvi again as she laughed and danced upon the table with Sigurd. Others had joined them now and Sigurd stumbled, nearly taking himself and several others off the table.</p><p>
  <em>      For we who fight, for we who fall </em>
</p><p>Eivor shook her head and stepped away from the door frame. She cast a look up at the shining moon that hung alone in the sky.</p><p>“Not you, Eivor. Not just yet,” she whispered to herself. The pain of it grounded her, reminded her of who she was. Of what she had yet to do, and she would do.</p><p>“Eivor!” Sigurd’s drunken shout broke through the fading din of the song and she turned, an easy but false smile on her face as she threw her arms in the air and moved back to join her brother in his celebration.</p><p>                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>          <span class="u">12 Gjø, 871</span> <span class="u"> (Frjádagr) </span></p><p>Eivor settled onto the furs laid out on the floor of the Seer’s hut. She waited while Valka prepared whatever she needed to before the other woman finally joined her on the floor. For the most part, Eivor liked coming to Valka, just as she had enjoyed coming to Svala. Sometimes she still sought Svala out specifically, but Valka was every bit as good of a seer as her Mother was.</p><p>“I appreciate your help, as always, Valka.”</p><p>“Of course, Eivor. Now… was it a dream?” Valka sat across from her as the soft smell of burning herbs filled the hut. Even when she was upset, there was something very calming about the seer’s hut.</p><p>“No. This is… a more practical matter.” Eivor did not have many people she felt she could talk to. Especially with Sigurd gone, but he would not have been an option in this case anyway. “I was hoping you could advise me on what to do.” Valka nodded to Eivor.</p><p>“Very well. What is the issue?” As always, Valka’s voice was even and measured. It was reassuring that Eivor had yet to bring anything to Valka that had rattled her. She was always composed, always ready to help. But this was hard to say out loud. It felt wrong even admitting it, and so a silence lingered between them for several minutes.</p><p>“I… I think I have fallen in love.” Valka’s eyes widened noticeably and Eivor could tell she had truly surprised Valka with that.</p><p>“Are you wanting marriage advice? I am not the best resource for such, Eivor.” Eivor shook her head quickly, earning a quizzical look.</p><p>“No. No. That’s, not an option. I need to know what to do with this feeling, because I cannot do with it what I wish to.” Eivor dropped her eyes to the furs beneath her feet. Valka made a soft sound of understanding. Silence filled the hut again for several minutes.</p><p>“Love is a complicated emotion, Eivor. You need to examine it within yourself, examine why you feel barred from it.”</p><p>Eivor sighed heavily.</p><p>“It is not that I feel barred from it, Valka. I can’t… she is married, Valka.” A touch of desperation slid into Eivor’s voice and she could not bring herself to admit more.</p><p>“Ah,” Valka said, understanding. Eivor looked up at Valka finally to see her smiling sympathetically at her. “Randvi.” Eivor flushed bright red.</p><p>“Valka… I would never- she is Sigurd’s wife. I would never do anything, I swear it!” Eivor felt a sense of panic that Valka had named her. She did not want anyone to know.</p><p>“Relax, Eivor. I know you would not. But as for this feeling… you will need to harness it. Do not cage it. Love that is caged becomes a poison. Love is about the best parts of ourselves. What you would pour into the person you love, you must find a way to pour out into the world instead.” Valka rose slowly, indicating that she was done with her advice. Eivor did not feel particularly helped by it however. The seer’s advice always came cloaked in vagueness, even when it was Svala who gave it. She sighed heavily and lingered for a few more minutes before standing up.</p><p>“Thank you, Valka.” Valka said nothing and Eivor turned to leave. She stepped through the heavy fur that hung over the doorway and found herself colliding with the wide, solid body of Dag. Her eyes widened in shock and without thinking she pushed him back, following him so that they were a couple steps outside of the hut. “Dag! What are you doing here?” He looked furious, but he usually looked at least a little pissed off so it did not necessarily mean anything.</p><p>“I heard you, Eivor.” Dag’s accusation was venomous and Eivor blanched.</p><p>“Shut up, Dag.” She could feel panic surging inside of her and she realized in that second that she had no idea what she was going to do. On a purely physical level, she could handle Dag, but if he told Sigurd what he had heard…</p><p>“She belongs to Sigurd! That you would betra-” Eivor shoved Dag hard, cutting off his words. He stumbled back and Eivor followed, her panic turning into white hot rage. She closed the space between them, standing over him. Dag was a big man, but he was broad, not tall. And Eivor was tall. She used it now, looming above him.</p><p>“She is a person, and she belongs to no one. I have committed no crime, broken no oath. You will keep your mouth shut, Dag. Or I will tell all of Fornburg how you lurk outside the Seer’s hut to overhear the secrets whispered inside.” Eivor spoke with an aggressive hiss to her tone. Dag had never much liked her, and she had never understood why. As children, she had done her best to try to convince Sigurd’s best friend to like her, but he had only ever treated her as an unwanted tagalong. Years ago she had given up on him and settled for letting his low simmering animosity be what it would be. But he did not blanch at her threat, instead simply sneering at her and then storming off. Eivor watched him go as he trudged back toward Fornburg down the slick mountain path.</p><p>
  <em> Fuck! </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Battle for the Northern Way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Scene 1: 	Set after Eivor returns from escaping Kjotve. Randvi tends her wounds in the sauna.<br/>Scene 2: 	Eivor revisits Heilboer before leaving Norway, for the first time since she became an adult.<br/>Scene 3: 	Eivor gets all hot and sweaty fixing the roof of the longhouse. Everyone is suddenly thirsty. Randvi gets feelings.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For reference, the axe used as “Rosta’s Axe” was the Bear-Claw, bought either from Reda or through the Animus store.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>                           22 Sólmánuður, 873</span> <span>(Mánadagr)</span></p>
<p>
  <span>It was only a few minutes after speaking with Gunnar and dropping off her Father’s axe to have it repaired that the adrenaline wore off. Eivor felt her entire body start to slow down and her muscles start to ache. Not just her muscles, either. Each breath brought a pang of sharp pain through her ribs, her lips stung where they had split, and her bones ached. But she would still need to deal with Styrbjorn, so she trudged wearily toward the longhouse. Randvi sat at the door, a visual warning to others of Styrbjorn’s poor mood. Or at least, a visual warning to her. And she could tell that Randvi was a touch annoyed with her when the redhead did not look up as she came to stand in front of her. She let silence linger for a second. Having Randvi upset with her was always the worst possible feeling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is he ready?” Her voice was low, tired and weary even to her own ears. And it was enough to get Randvi to look up at her. Not enough to make her not irritated. Eivor did have the sense to feel a little bad for leaving Randvi to deal with Styrbjorn’s fury at her choice to raid Kjotve. It was not exactly honorable to let someone else carry the consequences of her actions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He is still in his meeting. Gods, you look even worse now, Eivor. Have you spoken with Valka?” Randvi’s voice was tinged with concern and Eivor swore it alone was enough to ease some of the pain in her bones.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not yet. I could use a bath,” Eivor answered, trying to force herself to stand straight. She felt gross, and the heat of the steam would help her feel better. Nothing quite like the healing heat of a sauna. Eivor smiled at Randvi. “Join me?” Randvi’s hand stilled as she held the knife she was sharpening against the stone. For a second Eivor was not sure if she would agree.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Very well,” Randvi answered and stood up, placing the knife and the stone down on the chair she had been occupying. Eivor’s smile widened and they walked together in silence toward the edge of the village where the saunas were.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Randvi undressed easily in the warm space just outside the sauna. Eivor had to bite back groans of pain and stiffness as she slowly peeled herself out of her armor. It would need to be cleaned and repaired, but there was time to deal with that later. Randvi’s back was to her at first, but as Eivor removed the last of her bindings from around her ribs, Randvi turned around to face her. She heard Randvi’s reaction, rather than seeing it, as Randvi sucked in a sharp breath of surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gods, Eivor… what happened?” It was not as bad as Randvi made it sound, surely? Eivor tossed her bindings onto the floor near the door and looked down at herself as she turned toward Randvi. An angry purple-black bruise was blooming over her ribs, just down and to the left of her breast. She remembered Kjotve kicking her there with the heel of his boot. Just below her pelvis a shallow slice curved over her thigh and down toward her knee. It had already clotted and looked worse than it was as it started to heal on its own. And on her left shoulder there was a small puncture from an arrow that managed to burrow it’s way just enough through her armor to hurt her. Eivor took in all the injuries slowly and then shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It isn’t that ba-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> finish. It is that bad.” Eivor looked a little sheepish, chastised by Randvi’s reaction. Although not one of their healers, Randvi often helped her treat her injuries when she came back from raids. And there was always an injury of some sort. When Eivor looked up again Randvi was suddenly much closer to her, reaching out to touch the ugly bruise. At first her touch was so feather light that Eivor did not mind, but then it suddenly got firmer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck! Randvi!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Eivor cursed instinctively and jerked away from the painful touch. Without the adrenaline of battle she was feeling it a lot more right now, and Randvi’s probing fingers hurt. Randvi made a sound of disapproval and when she looked at her again she could see that concern there again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will need to see the healers, Eivor.” There was more than concern in her voice. Disapproval to. Randvi was always like this when Eivor came back injured, even when it was nothing serious, so she was not surprised by it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just need a bath,” Eivor protested and moved stiffly to step around Randvi. The steam would help, and she could sweat away the filth that caked her skin. “And to wash my hair.” Randvi sighed heavily behind her and did not immediately follow her. Eivor did not question it, though she could just make out Randvi saying something to the women who would keep the sauna running for them. And then a few minutes later Randvi joined her, and they sat side by side on the bench.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor leaned back against the wall, letting her head rest there. The exhaustion was settling in again and she could feel sleep pulling at her hard. She had slept some on the ship on the way back, but not much. Kjotve wasn’t far away from Fornburg now, so really her sleep had been more of a nap. But her eyes closed and the tension in her muscles finally gave way as she relaxed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was too tired to even flinch or rouse when the door to the sauna opened, letting in a sharp draft of cooler air from the entry. Eivor did shiver at it, and she felt Randvi rise. From what she heard, having not bothered to open her eyes, Randvi must have asked for water. Good, she could wash her hair then. But instead of Randvi speaking to her, she instead felt a hand on her thigh near the slice she had received from a dagger. That got her attention, and Eivor snapped to sudden attention. Eyes open wide and her body rigid and upright, Eivor found herself suddenly staring at Randvi. Randvi knelt in front of her with a soft cloth in hand, staring up at her with a guarded expression. It was hardly the first time Randvi had helped her clean up after a battle, but she usually gave her a little warning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This needs to be taken care of, Eivor,” Randvi scolded her. Eivor nodded and swallowed against the sudden hammer of her heart. It was always awkward for her, but she also loved the attention and Randvi did not seem to notice how awkward it was. So she let it happen. Forcing herself to relax against the wall again, she let Randvi work. It was not particularly gentle or soothing work. Randvi had to reopen the shallow cut to clean it, and Eivor hissed at the pain of having the new scabs pulled away. But once that was over, and Randvi was quick about it, she did feel better. How embarrassing would it be to die of an infection?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Randvi continued to work, eventually moving up to the small puncture on her shoulder. To Eivor’s relief she did not try to touch the bruising on her ribs again. And as Randvi worked, Eivor found herself relaxing even further. Until she actually fell asleep, right there in the sauna with Randvi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
<p><span>                           23 Tvímánuður, 873</span> <span>(Laugardagr)</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Tove, could you pack up my things while you pack up your own?” Eivor asked the question easily as she slid her Father’s axe into the loop that hung just below her hip on her right side. Tove turned to look at her curiously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can, but why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have something I need to do before we leave. I will be back tomorrow, but I would feel better if I knew I was ready to leave as soon as I return.” Eivor knew Tove would not probe, she never did. They had shared the small house near Svend’s tattoo shop for three years now after Svend had helped build it for Tove and she had decided she needed out of the longhouse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, alright. Whatever it is, be safe.” Eivor nodded at Tove and headed out the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>                           ----------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor pulled her horse to a stop on the tight packed gravel of the beach. It snorted and tossed its head, having enjoyed the easy canter along the water’s edge. The pack horse behind her just stilled and rested. But the arch of Heilboer stood not far in front of them. Already she could see how overgrown the village was, which was not surprising. What was surprising was how oddly beautiful it made it. The rooftops of the various houses and the longhouse were already visible, bushes and grasses covering them now. It almost looked as if the whole village had been carved out of the grasses, rather than built atop them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even the rickety fence around the village was still erect, although Eivor suspected it was quite weak by now. She dismounted from the shaggy haired horse and guided it toward the entrance. Eventually she would settle the horses for the night, but for now she wanted a little bit of time undisturbed. Eivor carefully tied both horses to the fence line and looked up at the arch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Home. Or… it was home, once. Now it is nothing but bone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor swallowed against the tight feeling in her throat and walked into the abandoned village. She doubted anyone had been here since the last of the pyres had burned itself out. It certainly did not look as if anyone had been here. Shrubs grew all the way up to the open doorways, vines crawling up the walls and over the roofs. The pillar at the center of the village was overgrown, but still beautiful in the bright summer sunlight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is where Father and Mother left this world.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stopped near the pillar, staring at the spot where her Mother had fallen next to her Father, a small throwing axe lodged in her spine. Eivor felt her heart seize in her chest and she clenched her jaw against the rush of pain that washed through her. She could still hear her Mother screaming, the splash of blood as Kjotve removed her Father’s head; the wet, heavy sound of the axe hitting her Mother… and the hollow thud of both of them hitting the ground. Was it a mercy for them that they had died together? Eivor swallowed against the sudden pain in her throat, forcing her tears to stay in her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I would have died with them, in dishonor, if not for Sigurd.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor made herself look away, lifting her gaze to the small house. She forced herself to move, walking inside of it. Dirt covered the floors now, and no signs of the violence of that night lingered here. But she could see the raider standing over her Mother, taste the cry of “Momma!” that left her mouth. It was such a stupid thing to do, but it had worked, buying her Mother a few seconds to kill the raider. Buying her Mother a few more minutes of life… enough life to watch her husband put down his axe and accept a coward’s death... She moved over to the window and stared out at what had been the small paddock for the village horses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Mother… If I had followed your orders, would you have lived? Would you and Father have triumphed?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was so easy to remember why she had done it. Why she had defied her Father’s command to stay in the longhouse, her Mother’s command to flee. All she had wanted in the world was to be a shieldmaiden like her Mother, brave and proud. Eivor leaned against the window sill, the wood made rough by years of weather and no care. The roughness helped ground her a little. Nine year old Eivor had only wanted to make them proud, to be as fierce and deadly as her berserker Father. And in the end, she may have been the one to lead them to their deaths instead…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, trying to force away the suffocating sadness that was filling her insides like she was an empty mug. The memories had never gone away. They had gotten less intense over the years, whether due simply to the passage of time or because as she got older she got better at controlling them. But here, on the very dirt where they died, the memories were so much stronger than she could ever remember them being. It felt like it was trying to happen all over again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she opened her eyes, Eivor found herself staring up at the roof of the longhouse. That managed to get a sad quirk of her lips and she jumped through the window. Within a minute she was pulling herself up onto the decrepit roof and scrambling higher. The lack of care over the years made it much harder to climb than she had expected, but she still managed. Sigurd was always teasing her for how adept she was at climbing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I loved climbing up here. Made me feel high as a raven.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked out over the village from her new high vantage point. Eivor could remember climbing up here to get into the longhouse when her Father would lock her out during his meetings. A quick drop through the smoke exit and she could lay on the rafters and hear everything. Or sometimes she just sat on the roof, enjoying the view and feeling so high and powerful. Eivor looked up at the smoke vent and carefully picked her way up the last few feet of the steep roof. Dropping in was a bit of a gamble at this point. After 17 years of neglect it was entirely possible the second floor would collapse under her weight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But, to her pleasure, the old wood held her weight. Eivor crept slowly through the silent longhouse. It felt strange for it to be so quiet, she could never remember it being silent in her childhood. A longhouse was meant to be full of noise. But it was oddly beautiful in its state of decay. Flowering vines filled the longhouse along with beams of soft light filtering through the holes in the roof. She made her way quietly along the beams and then dropped down to the main floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I still remember the smell of the feast. The anticipation of a dinner I never got to eat.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor had been so excited for the feast, and she slowly traced the steps she had taken that night. Stopping when her Father kissed her head and tasked her with presenting their gift to King Styrbjorn. She had stopped to listen to Tove taunt a drunken Holger, then onward until Sigurd cut her off. He had so loved teasing her back then, when they were just starting to become friends. Eivor remembered being so irritated by how he acted so much older than her, even though he was a full five years her elder. She had been so competitive with him then, and the memory of it actually made her laugh a little bit. But it died as she came to the center hearth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Mother used to sing me to sleep by this hearth. Her voice made me feel safe. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I have not felt safe since then. Not really.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She knelt down next to the hearth, and then found herself sitting fully on the dirty floor. It was covered in dirt and mossy plants, and probably under that with ash from the fire. Eivor could remember laying on a pile of furs here, her head in her Mother’s lap, and the soft hum of her voice as she sang to her. She closed her eyes and swore she could feel her Mother’s hand stroking over her shorn hair, soothing away all of her fears near the penetrating heat of the fire. When winter storms would blow through the whole clan would come into the longhouse to sleep and stay safe. Even the animals would be brought in, corralled at the far end, and she would sleep on furs beside the fire, curled up between the press of her parents’ bodies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I miss you,” Eivor whispered into the silence. “I miss how the world was then… I miss how happy I was. I miss… I miss when I did not understand how selfish everything was.” This time she failed to keep the tears away. “I am sorry I did not listen,” Eivor squeezed her eyes shut as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She was sorry for every time she had defied her parents, for every time she had pushed back against them in her desire to grow up and be like them. She had just wanted to make them proud of her. To be a drengir they could boast of. “I kept my promise. I avenged you. Kjotve is dead.” Eivor swallowed against the poisonous feeling that rose on her tongue at saying the name. She would do more than kill Kjotve. She would not stop until his bloodline was wiped from the Earth. Wherever Gorm had fled, she would find him, and she would send him to Hela.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor shook her head and reached up, wiping the tears off her cheeks. She stood up, moving away from the hearth. For a minute she did not go further, looking toward her Father’s chair at the head of the longhouse. Then she turned away from it, heading instead to the small rooms they had occupied at the far end instead. It looked exactly as she had remembered, though her bed was smaller, and the space was covered in dirt and the massive webs of spiders. Eivor moved over to a corner near her parents’ bed and opened a trunk there. Not that she expected to find anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except she did. Laying inside, dusty but seemingly otherwise intact, was a set of her Mother’s old armor. Her entire body stilled as she recognized it, and she found herself simply staring at it as if it would launch out of the trunk and attack her. Next to the armor lay her Mother’s favored axe, and Eivor suddenly realized she had not seen it with her that night. There probably had not been time to retrieve it, not when she had a serviceable weapon already at hand. Eivor reached down and ran her fingers lightly over the head and down the handle of the axe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her Mother had told her the axe had been a gift from her Father before they were married. It was actually the axe that made her decide to marry him, according to the tale. Rosta had refused to marry, not wanting to give up her life as a shield maiden. But Varin had persisted, promising he would never make her give up her life. And when he commissioned such a beautiful axe, with a bear’s head reaching over the top of the axe head, she had realized he meant it. They married a few weeks later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor let out a slow breath and picked the axe up. It felt right in her hand, heavy like her Father’s, but with a longer haft. It was in worse shape than her Father’s had been. Seventeen years in a box would do that to any weapon. But it was a beautiful weapon. She glanced down at her Father’s axe, hanging at her side. She could carry them both, instead of a shield. When she was younger she had trained to fight with two axes. Gunnar had insisted she learn, in case her shield was ever destroyed in a fight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a nod to herself, Eivor picked up the axe and then gathered up the armor underneath it. When they got to England she would see what Gunnar could do with it. Some part of it had to be salvageable. Eivor was, according to those who could make the comparison, significantly taller than her Mother. Not quite as tall as her Father, who had been - according to Styrbjorn - a giant of a berserker, but significantly taller than Rosta. Which made sense to her, when she considered that she was taller than most of the men of the Raven Clan, and all of the women.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carrying her Mother’s armor, still folded carefully, and with her Mother’s axe now hanging on her left side, she made her way back through the longhouse to her Father’s seat. Eivor placed the armor carefully on the table and moved over to the chair, smirking when she saw the old stain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I spilled ink on this throne... the stain is still there, in the furs after all these years. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Father was furious.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Varin had been so mad at her in the moment, but as always his ire and fire had cooled quickly. Within a few days he was referring to it as “Eivor’s decorating” and teasing her that would send her to Holger to become a painter instead of a warrior. Eivor smiled as she remembered how she had pouted and sulked at his taunts, telling him that she would fight him if he tried. How he had laughed, that deep, body shaking sound that would rattle her bones when he held her. Maybe there was a reason Gunnar had always called her a little berserker. Tove had just called her feral.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor sat down on the Jarl’s chair and relaxed slowly. She found herself wondering if it would have been hers someday. As it was, she was the only child of her parents, but it might not have remained so. Perhaps she would have had brothers and sisters in time, a brother to be Jarl after Varin. Or maybe she might have been Jarl after him regardless. Such would hardly be the first time, even among the Bear Clan. Varin’s Aunt had been Jarl before him. Eivor let her head rest back against the chair and she closed her eyes again. This time, tears did not come. Instead it was just a sense of peace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so she lingered there, soaking up what little presence was left in the place after so long. When she finally rose, the sun was hanging low. It would not fully set for many hours yet, but it was still to prepare for rest. She needed to set the horses up for the night, and set up her own. There was no way she could make it back to Fornburg tonight, which she had planned on ahead for. With a soft sigh she pushed herself up out of the chair and headed to open up the doors to the longhouse so she could begin settling for the night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
<p><span>                           03 Haustmánuður, 873</span> <span>(Týsdagr)</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor straightened from where she was hunched over the roofing boards, precariously perched on the steep bowed shape of the longhouse roof. She had finally finished forcing the new framing into place and was rather pleased with the work, but she wanted to make sure it was accurate to what was wanted before she started putting shingles on it. The hot sun beat down upon her back and she reached up to wipe sweat away from her brow before glancing down through the large hole still present in the roof.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Randvi!” she called down to the redhead only to find the woman already staring up at her. Eivor flashed an easy smile at her, taking in the way the beams of sunlight highlighted Randvi in the dark room. It made her hair spark like fire and illuminated her as if the Gods themselves were taking notice. As they should. Randvi was a beauty to rival Freyja herself, and she only got more beautiful with each passing day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eivor,” Randvi called back. “How goes it?” Eivor waved the small working hammer to Randvi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The framing is done. Is this about how you wanted it? I do not wish to block out your light, only protect you from the rain.” And gods, was there a lot of rain. Since they had arrived it had rained every day. Usually not for long periods, but long enough that most of the major walkways in the village continued to turn into impassable muck. It was proving to be a significant hindrance, but Eivor had a few ideas on how to help resolve it. So she had sent a number of the raiders into the woods to collect more lumber for them. Eivor watched as Randvi studied the structure as best she could from her spot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, it seems right. Though I think the shingles will have the most impact.” Eivor nodded down to her, but it seemed Randvi was not done yet. “You have been up there all morning. Will you not come down for a drink and some food?” Eivor laughed and shook her head at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would see as much of this done as I can before the rains come. I have no doubt they will come again before the sun is down.” As much as the rain irritated her, it was an acceptable price for how beautiful and green this land was. It would be easy to settle here, to grow crops and raise animals. Norway was a glimmering jewel at the top of the world, but it was a harsh land that gave little and demanded much. England was proving to be a much kinder land so far.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you insist,” Randvi answered with a sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am afraid I do,” Eivor answered effortlessly. Then she turned away and started to carefully slide down the roof so she could gather the shingles she needed from the scaffolding they had erected. Getting them back up the roof proved the much harder part. Just getting up the roof was a frustrating exercise, but doing so with bags of extra weight strapped to her back was worse. Still, she managed, and she was able to get enough shingles on to serve her purposes over the next couple hours.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Eivor finally descended back down to the ground, the sun was dipping low into the sky. Without a thought for the rumbling complaint of her empty stomach, she headed instead straight to the river. So far, this was her favorite part of England. The water was crisp and cold, but not dangerously frigid like it was for much of the year in Rygjafylke. With a smirk on her lips she started to peel out of her clothing. A refreshing swim sounded like the perfect way to get the sweat of a day’s hard labor off her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor heard some faint murmuring and turned, wearing only her bindings now. Petra, Yanli, Sunniva, and Tove were standing not far from the shore, seemingly talking to each other. Suspiciously, not a single one of them was looking at her. But looking past them she could see Randvi approaching the docks. Eivor smirked faintly, realizing suddenly what was going on. It was hardly the first time. Randvi would put a stop to it, she usually did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So she turned back to the water and walked into the chilly waters of their river. She sighed loudly as the waters washed away the grime and heat of the day. Though the weather was mild, the sun could still be draining when it shined on such heavy work. And then she did a shallow dive into the water, submerging herself completely before standing up in the shallow waters to shake it off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>                           ----------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Randvi guessed that Eivor would head down to the river before she would seek out food and drink. When she heard her scrambling down from the roof she smirked and shook her head, then rolled up the map she was studying and headed out of the longhouse. From the doorway she saw Eivor heading down the path to the river. So predictable. She laughed gently to herself and then started down the path, taking her time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she reached the river, it took her a minute to realize that there was already a bit of a crowd gathered. Eivor stood in the water up to her hips, clear water sluicing down her back from her wet hair. It ran thin rivers over the strong muscles, outlining and defining them in the sharp summer sunlight. Her tattoo also highlighted the lines of her body, the intricate lines of the axe handle traveling up her spine from just above the muscular swell of her ass until it branched out into the double heads of the war axe across the hard, flat planes of her shoulder blades. Her arms, the left covered almost completely with black ink starting at the shoulder and the right covered from the mid bicep down, were bent up over her shoulders as she worked her wet blonde hair loose from its singular plait. The effect was to lengthen the long, lean lines of her torso while culminating in the pleasing flex of her arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Randvi found herself swallowing against a suddenly dry throat. That sensation was enough to make her moisten her lips and that was when she finally heard the soft titter of voices. With a swift, sharp shake of her head she looked around and caught sight of them. Yanli, Petra, Sunniva, and even Tove, for shame, were clustered together not far from the river’s edge. And it was quite obvious that they were also watching Eivor, and giggling amongst themselves about it. She found herself scowling and had to remind herself that it was not acceptable to be that emotionally involved in the situation. Besides, this was hardly the first time she had found women - or men, for that matter - gathered nearby as if Eivor swimming was a spectator event. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Randvi had also had the privilege of being in far less public situations with a nude Eivor, often taking to the sauna with her to relax and wash away the debris of daily life. Such was a common enough thing among women and men. But her rationalizations did little in the face of the flair of jealousy she felt burning in her chest suddenly. They should not be gaping at Eivor as if she were… well they simply should not be doing it. She forced her expression into one of mild indignation and approached the group of women.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Surely there are better things we could all be doing,” Randvi cut in, keeping her tone light but still disapproving. All four of them turned, blushing brightly at being caught out at their ogling. Petra was the first to speak, her dark skin tinged a distinct shade of red.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“R-Randvi! We were just-” It was Tove who cut her off with a laugh and a shake of her head. Even with the faint hint of pink in her cheeks, Tove did not appear at all abashed. Tove clapped a hand down on Petra’s shoulder to reassure her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Breathe, Petra. We were only looking, Randvi.” Tove glanced back over her shoulder at Eivor, who appeared to be oblivious to what was happening. When she looked back she was grinning confidently. “Surely even a well-married woman like you can understand taking a little peek, Randvi. We weren’t hurting anything.” Randvi pursed her lips at Tove and did not answer her immediately. She felt just the tiniest bit called out by Tove’s taunt and she refused to give anything away. In 3 years she had never met with a single legitimate accusation, and she was not about to start now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is still rude, Tove, and you well know it. You’ve known her since she was a child, for Freyja’s sake.” Petra and Sunniva shot guilty looks at Tove. Yanli was very carefully not looking at any of them. “Go on now, you’ve all had your peeks. If Tekla catches you being lewd creatures she’ll tan your hides and turn them over to Holger to make his weird art.” That got a laugh from the group and they nodded, dispersing around Randvi back into the settlement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And leaving her with a clear view of Eivor all for herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor had moved deeper into the water now, up to just under her arms, and clearly enjoying the cool waters. She wasn’t moving, her hair hung loose about her neck. Randvi had to admit, she really quite liked the new style Eivor had taken for her hair, with it shaved clean all the way to the top but still long enough to braid down her neck. It made it lay a little weird when it was loose, such as now, but she still itched to tangle her fingers in it. To tangle her fingers in Eivor’s hair, use it to guide her lips where she most wanted to feel their soft touch. Randvi had no doubt that Eivor’s lips would be impossibly soft and tender.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Randvi wet her lips slightly as she watched Eivor dip under the water again and come up, arching back and gathering her hair in her hands to ruffle the water through it. More than just Eivor’s hair, she wanted to trace the lines of her tattoos with her own lips, to follow every scar with her fingertips. The desire burned inside of her hotter than the fires of Muspelheim, brighter than the sun. And it created a well of yearning that she was afraid to examine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for running them off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Randvi blinked, taking a second to realize that Eivor had spoken. When her vision focused again she realized that Eivor had turned around in the river and was facing her. Thankfully, she was also in the water up to her chin now, and Randvi found herself a little disappointed by that. As if she had never seen Eivor’s stunningly perfect breasts before. And from a far closer position than this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Randvi’s question got a laugh from Eivor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said thank you for running them off. I don’t mind all that much, but it can get a little tiresome.” There was still genuine mirth and amusement in Eivor’s voice, so Randvi could tell she was not bothered. Not by the now dispersed crowd, or by Randvi’s own staring. Then again, she probably had no idea Randvi even was staring. To both her curse and her fortune, Eivor remained utterly unaware of the constant turmoil inside of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Randvi answered easily. “If you would just take one of them as your wife, or find a husband, it would probably put a stop to them, you know.” She kept her tone teasing. It was something she made herself tease Eivor about frequently, for her own self-preservation. If Eivor would just marry, and stop being so damned Eivor all the time, then maybe her own problem would go away. But instead Eivor simply laughed again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should think not. Although Petra is certainly pretty… she’d make a fine wife, I bet. But no… I am a drengr, and that is all I need from this life.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Kingmaker's Saga</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>For reference, the axe used as “Rosta’s Axe” was the Bear-Claw, bought either from Reda or through the Animus store.<br/>Scene 1: 	Eivor is excited to show off her new horse (Caballarii) to Randvi.<br/>Scene 2: 	Before leaving for Grantebridgescire, Eivor shows off her new armor to Randvi.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Pushed through so I could get this out. A little something to hopefully help with all the awful that happened yesterday in DC.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>                            09 Mörsugur, 873</span>
  <span> (Sunnudagr)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Randvi!” Eivor called from outside the longhouse. She stood by in her light tunic and breeches, holding the reins for Caballarii in one hand. The stallion tossed his black mane and snorted at her, but was calm and accepting of her presence. Eivor ran her other hand over his shoulder, caressing the smooth slick hair. He was an impressive beast and Eivor had been enamored with him the moment she saw him in Tonna’s stables as she was leaving her hut. The sound of boots on dirt made her turn to see Randvi standing in the doorway of the longouse, giving her a flat look of feigned disapproval.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eivor, have you dragged another wayward creature home? I already received the first, young Lord Coelbert arrived yesterday.” Eivor laughed at her words but shrugged at the question. She gave the stallion’s neck a soft pat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You cannot be cross with me, Randvi. Look at how beautiful he is! Rowan has already said he would like to breed him to all of our mares.” That got a laugh from Randvi and she left the longhouse doorway, approaching Eivor and the horse. “I had thought we could go for a ride? When is the last time you took an hour away from your maps and scrolls?” Eivor knew her offer had won when she saw Randvi’s guilty smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That smile could cure any ill. Eivor did not understand how anyone could look at Randvi, breathe the same air as her, and not feel better for it. And prying Randvi away from her duties for an hour or two was a guaranteed way to put a smile on her lips. Eivor would do anything to keep a smile on Randvi’s face. It made her feel… warm, when she was able to draw a smile on the other woman’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A short ride,” Randvi conceded as she reached Eivor and the stallion. She reached up to run her hand down the front of his face and he pushed his head into the gesture. “Has he got a name?” Eivor nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Caballarii,” the name came out somewhat jumbled on Eivor’s tongue, the flow between letters and syllables confusing her. But she managed a decent enough approximation of it. “I would have asked what it meant, but it wasn’t exactly a friendly exchange.” She smirked when Randvi’s eyebrow quirked in an unspoken question. “It’s hardly the first horse I’ve claimed by right of combat. Come on then, Rowan will saddle up one of the horses for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They walked together around the longhouse, Eivor leading Caballarii easily. Credit where it was due, he was a remarkably well-trained horse, given that Tonna had bragged about his young age. Gods only knew where the sellsword had obtained him, but Eivor doubted she had simply paid a fair price for him. Or that she had been the one to train him. It took a few minutes for Rowan to prepare one of the horses for Randvi, but then they were out on the road, riding at an easy trot among the open air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a while there was easy silence between them as they put distance between themselves and the village. Eivor loved riding for the joy of it, though she never seemed to find the time. And riding out with Randvi was even better, as it was extremely difficult to pry Randvi away from her seemingly endless list of tasks. She let Randvi pull ahead into a lope so that she could enjoy the sight for just a moment. A little indulgence to get her through, that is all she needed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Randvi looked free when she was riding. Or really, any activity that got her away from Fornburg or Ravensthorpe. Eivor enjoyed the way she seemed to glow in the sunlight, her hair reflecting the fire of the sun. She wore it braided almost always, as was expected of a married woman, but Eivor had gotten the pleasure of seeing it loose a few times. Eivor could remember finding the rules about a married woman’s hair being confusing for the longest time. Who cared if a woman’s hair was down? Were men really that insecure about their wives? But then she had seen Randvi for the first time, and it made complete sense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor always found Randvi to be the most beautiful woman in the room. Or the field, or the ship, or any space she occupied. But the first time she had seen Randvi shake her hair loose - that first time they went to the sauna together - she was fairly certain her soul had left her body. If Randvi were hers, she would not wish to share such a sight with anyone else either. Or maybe she would, to let the whole world see what she had won for herself. Eivor would probably let Randvi do whatever she wanted, if only she were hers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Coelbert told me a rather interesting story,” Randvi’s voice cut through Eivor’s thoughts. She swallowed, panicked for a second that Randvi knew what she had been thinking. But she lightly spurred Caballarii into a lope to catch up with Randvi on her mare. Eivor took a second before responding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh? What about?” Eivor hoped she sounded as carefree as she was trying for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About you, of course.” Randvi’s voice was soft and teasing, convincing Eivor that she had gotten away with her moment of fantasy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is that interesting? You already know all the stories about me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not this one. Evidently Sigurd told him the tale on their ride. About you and a certain sellsword…” Randvi was deliberately taunting her now and Eivor groaned loudly, as if in pain. And it did feel a little bit like pain to be reminded of Tonna. Of course Sigurd was not going to let that go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Odin’s ass. Please do-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it true? Did you really seduce her?” There was an odd quality in Randvi’s voice at the question, but Eivor was too embarrassed to evaluate it. She shook her head and dramatically slumped forward in the saddle as if unconscious, earning a chuckle from Randvi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can hardly claim to have seduced her. The woman called me a ‘lovely dove’ in her introduction.” Eivor shook her head while Randvi laughed again. “And then proceeded to tell me she had a rather ‘expert tongue’.” That got an even bigger laugh from Randvi. As humiliating as the tale was, at least Randvi was enjoying it. Eivor did not mind the telling of it if Randvi was going to enjoy it so much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that your type? I did not take you for one to be so… vigorously pursued,” That weird note was in Randvi’s voice again, and this time Eivor did take a second to think about it. It almost sounded like jealousy, but that hardly made sense. Unless Randvi was truly that lonely, and was jealous that Eivor was getting to have such encounters? It was possible, she knew Randvi was badly neglected by Sigurd. He was such a fool, always chasing glory far from home when it was sleeping alone in his bed every night. If Randvi was really that lonely, there were likely a great many in Ravensthorpe who would happily keep her company. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eivor?” Randvi’s voice cut through Eivor’s thoughts again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm? Sorry. No, that is decidedly not my ‘type,’ just to be clear. And I do not think Sigurd gave a fair telling of the tale.” Eivor looked over at Randvi and was surprised to see that the woman was not smiling as she had expected. She still looked pleased to be out, but not as happy as she had expected her to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what is the truth of it, then? If I can ask.” Eivor sighed again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course you can. You know you can ask anything and I will tell you, Randvi. As for it… yes, I did go to bed with Tonna. That was her name, by the way. And I only did it so she would give us information to find Burgred.” Eivor wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Ugh. Worst tumble I’ve ever had.” When she glanced over to Randvi she saw a look of surprise on her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really? That bad?” Eivor laughed and nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. I would much rather forget it happened, if I am honest. She was much too... “ Eivor flushed brightly when she realized she was about to describe sexual acts to Randvi, of all people. She coughed to clear her throat and try to cover her slip. “Anyway, it was bad. And she’s dead now, so it is just another memory to drink away tonight, I think.” Randvi let out a noise of surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s dead?” Randvi sounded rather disbelieving at that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She ambushed me when I was recovering Burgred from the crypt. I did not have a lot of options.” Eivor shrugged. “As I said, I only went to bed with her to get information. It was not as if there was a bond there.” She studied Randvi’s face as they rode side by side. A pang of fear made her chest tighten. Could Randvi’s reaction be that she thought less of her now? It was far from her first sexual encounter, and Randvi was already aware of her proclivities, and that she had encounters before. But this was the first time she had used sex in such a utilitarian fashion, and maybe Randvi disapproved. The idea of Randvi disapproving of her made her stomach lurch dangerously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see. Well… I am sorry to hear you had such a bad encounter,” Randvi said, her voice soft and thoughtful. Eivor shook her head at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t that kind of bad just… not good. Anyway, I would rather have fun riding with you than discussing Tonna.” Eivor considered how best to shift the situation. “Race you to the river?” She grinned at Randvi. Randvi could never pass up a challenge. And true to form, Randvi smirked at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely. Ready?” Before Eivor could answer, Randvi spurred her mare into a gallop from her gentle lope and pulled away from Eivor fast. Eivor was so surprised she actually pulled Caballarii to a sudden stop, staring at Randvi’s back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cheat! You compete without honor, Randvi Arnesdóttir!” Eivor’s shout was answered by the sound of Randvi’s laughter coming back to her in the wind. With a broad smile Eivor lightly kicked Caballarii into a gallop as well, urging him faster to try to make up for Randvi’s early start.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>                           24 Mörsugur, 873</span>
  <span> (Mánadagr)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eivor approached Randvi’s office in her newly completed armor set as quietly as she was able. She could already hear Randvi and Coelbert… discussing something. Half the time she was barely able to parse whatever minutia of diplomacy they were debating, but it amused her to hear them speak. Randvi clearly adored Coelbert, and Coelbert was not at all subtle in his open admiration of Randvi, and yet when they got truly engaged in a subject, they frequently sounded ready to throttle each other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was pretty entertaining to see someone get under Randvi’s skin without even trying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Having passed unnoticed so far, Eivor simply leaned against the frame of the entryway to Randvi’s map table. Technically, she supposed, it was Sigurd’s. But Randvi was the real mastermind, for all that she denied it. Sigurd might see himself as the brains behind the operation, but Eivor had no such delusions about herself. Or about her brother. Not that either of them were stupid, but Randvi was intelligent in ways Eivor could barely even understand. And she was okay with that. Randvi pointed, she smashed. It worked well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Coelbert and Randvi’s discussion over the map went on for several minutes before Coelbert noticed her. Her amusement at being so easily missed only grew with each moment. Maybe it was a touch of hubris, but Eivor was accustomed to being pretty noticeable everywhere she went.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eivor!” Coelbert lit up as he said her name and she smiled at him. There was something heartwarming and refreshing about just how genuine the boy was. Eivor hoped against reality that the weight of being an aetheling would not crush it out of him. Randvi turned and smiled, causing Eivor’s heart to trip over itself and miss several beats. Somehow that never got better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eivor,” Randvi’s greeting was noticeably less enthusiastic but no less warm. Eivor could have happily drowned in the way Randvi’s lips shaped her name. After a split second, Randvi’s eyes dropped to take in Eivor’s new armor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can keep talking. I like listening to the two of you talk.” Coelbert grinned, but he seemed to realize the moment was disrupted regardless. Randvi’s eyes came back up to Eivor’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is new.” Eivor nodded at the comment and straightened, walking up to the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Gunnar just finished the modifications.” She flexed in it, moving her arms slowly. It felt a little odd, to be back in such relatively light armor. The armor that Sigurd had brought her back from Frankia had been a wonderful gift, but ultimately was very heavy to her and she did not particularly care for it. This was more typical of what she was used to, which made sense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Coelbert moved around the table to approach Eivor, studying the armor. Eivor did not mind and let him look it over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is much lighter than what you wore in Ledcestrescire. Will it still offer enough protection?” Eivor smirked and nodded at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. I am changing my approach. I am moving to a two axe attack instead of a shield and axe. That means I need speed and flexibility. This will give it to me.” When his eyes dropped to her axes she reached down and pulled them both free, laying them out on the table. Her Father’s axe was ancestral, and simple in its design. Gunnar had added a bit of flash to it, and promised he could add more if she brought him the right materials. And she would do so, once she had found them. But her Mother’s axe was an exquisite piece of craftsmanship already, one Gunnar had said was a joy to restore. The bearded axe head was decorated and affixed to the haft by the intricately carved head of a bear on each side, and just below the axe head three curved spikes arched away. This helped protect against another fighter trying to grab the axe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is beautiful,” Randvi commented easily, studying the axe on her table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was my Mother’s. I found it in Heilboer just before we left. My Father had it made for her.” Eivor noticed the way Randvi seemed to catch the words, a flicker of empathetic sadness she always saw there whenever she spoke of her parents to Randvi. Coelbert seemed to not notice and continued examining it. Eivor stepped back from the table slightly and raised her arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This was her armor, as well. Gunnar had to modify it, as I am much taller than she was. But it fits me well nonetheless.” Eivor looked to Randvi and appreciated the soft look of pride she saw there. Sometimes she felt like Randvi was the only one who actually understood what the loss of her parents meant to her. But she knew that was a selfish thought. Many people had loved her parents. Styrbjorn had adopted her. Svala had protected her. They had loved her parents, and they had nurtured her as best they were able in their absence. Still… maybe it was just her that Randvi seemed to understand better than others. Or maybe it was wishful thinking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It looks… right. On you.” Randvi’s words made Eivor’s guts tighten and her heart flutter a little. Thankfully, Coelbert saved her from the awkwardness a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is beautiful armor, Eivor. How fortunate that you found it.” The armor itself was a simple design, very Norse. In that regard it was typical, but the over-tunic was a stunning green with golden edges embroidered with red, and red ties. There were parts where time would not wash clean on it and some spots where the dye had faded enough that the new dyes did not quite match perfectly. And the white fun mantle of the cloak was definitely still showing its age, but Eivor did not care. It made her feel as if she was carrying them with her now, to every victory and onward to glory. Aside from protecting her battle, that was all she needed from it. Eivor nodded to both of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you. We should discuss Grantebridgescire.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Song of Soma</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Scene 1:	Eivor and Birna share a moment upon returning to Ravensthorpe.<br/>Scene 2: 	Things go poorly during the attack by Rued’s raiders.<br/>Scene 3: 	The Raven Clan celebrates their first Jul in England.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>10 Einmánuður, 873 (Sunnadagr)<br/>“Birna!” Eivor shouted loudly as she caught sight of the woman outside the longhouse. Birna turned to greet her in turn and they clapped their hands down on each other’s shoulders. “It is good to see you here. Come, Randvi tells me we have finished our sauna at last. Let us go enjoy it!” Birna laughed and nodded in acceptance as Eivor led her toward the back edge of the village. The saunas were set up not far from where Valka’s tent lay, waiting for final construction of a house for her. And luckily it was already set up and running, since it was Sunnadagr.</p><p>They stepped into the entryway of the sauna and both women set about undressing in a utilitarian fashion. Once ready, they stepped through the door into the sauna proper. Eivor groaned as the wet heat hit her full force. She settled onto the bench next to Birna and immediately relaxed, letting her head rest against the wall. Even with all the mild weather here, she loved the sauna. There was just something about it that felt better than bathing in the streams and rivers. Although she did enjoy being able to do that nearly year round.</p><p>“Thank you for welcoming me into your clan, Eivor,” Birna spoke up, breaking the easy silence between them. Eivor opened her eyes and offered Birna an easy smile.</p><p>“My clan will always have a place for a drengr such as you, Birna. There is no need for thanks.” It was the truth of it, but Eivor also felt a connection to Birna. She understood how it felt for your heart to sing only for one who would not have you. Not that she had ever had the nerve to share such a thing, except with Valka. At least Birna knew where she stood.</p><p>That was unfair, Eivor swiftly chastised herself. She knew exactly where she stood with Randvi: directly on the other side of Sigurd. Randvi was married, and had been married before she had even figured out her feelings. Not that it would have mattered if she had figured them out before. Randvi and Sigurd’s marriage brought peace. And Randvi would never jeopardize that just to indulge Eivor’s selfishness.</p><p>Eivor shook her head and when she looked up she saw Birna staring at her with a curious expression. She cleared her throat awkwardly and felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Thank the Gods they were already in the sauna, so redness was to be expected.</p><p>“You look as if a great boulder has fallen on your chest, Eivor. What troubles you so much?” Birna’s voice was not particularly soft, but Eivor did not mind. From what she had learned of the woman so far, Birna’s solution to most problems was to kill them if she could, and laugh them away if she could not. She found herself weirdly admiring such an attitude. But if anyone might understand… it would be Birna.</p><p>“If I am honest, Birna… I carry it with me everywhere I go,” Eivor answered cryptically. She glanced nervously at the door. She had no once mentioned this, to anyone, since the day Dag discovered her secret. It was her burden to bear, hers to keep. She would not shame Randvi with her desires, nor betray her brother by whispering them into the world where they could be used against him. “If I can have your confidence?” Eivor looked over to Birna nervously.</p><p>“Of course, Eivor. I gave my word.” Birna did not seem particularly hurt by Eivor asking though, so Eivor did not worry over it. Looking away from Birna, Eivor dropped her head against the wall again and stared up at the damp ceiling of the sauna. The peaceful relaxation she normally felt in the humid space was gone, even her muscles felt tight.</p><p>“When you told me about Soma… about your feelings… I felt a kinship to you, in that moment. My own heart… walks around away from me, never quite coming back home where it belongs. I know the hollow pain it provokes, the one that never leaves, more intimately than I know anything or anyone else in this world. The emptiness that cannot be filled with bread or ale or a tumble or any other kind of happiness I might find.” Eivor could not remember ever speaking so much about it. Even when she had told Valka, begging for help, she had been blunt and to the point. A rough bark of laughter escaped her. “Damn, I’ve gotten entirely too poetic about it…”</p><p>Birna gave a sharp laugh of her own at Eivor’s closing comment. But she reached out and laid a hand on Eivor’s shoulder. Eivor turned her head slightly to look at her.</p><p>“It is awful, isn’t it?” Birna said simply. Eivor found herself smiling at Birna and feeling just the smallest bit lighter for having shared the burden with someone who truly understood it. It seemed almost odd to her. She could not have conjured up a woman more different to herself if she had tried, and yet this feeling of kinship with Birna already felt as if it had the weight of years. “Have you considered going elsewhere? As I have?”</p><p>Eivor shook her head emphatically.</p><p>“No. This clan is my home, wherever it shall roam. My brother is here,” well, when he was, which was rare. But still, to leave the Raven Clan was not an option. Sigurd had trusted her with their lives, their safety, and their futures. She would not discard that for her own comfort.</p><p>“Well… have you told her?” Eivor shook her head more sadly at that question.</p><p>“I cannot. She is a married woman. I would not embarrass her or her husband in such a manner.” Birna sighed heavily at her answer and leaned back. There was a lag of silence between them for several minutes.</p><p>“I am sorry. It is a miserable place to live,” Birna said easily. Eivor simply nodded, and silence reigned again between them.</p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>11 Einmánuður, 873 (Mánadagr)<br/>Eivor brought her main axe down at an angle on the neck of one of the raiders. Blood splashed outward from the fatal strike and she yanked her axe free as he crumpled to the ground in front of her. A quick glance around told her that the Raven Clan was routing their attackers quickly, even in the dark evening light. She lifted her axe over her head and sent up a cheer. It was answered quickly, and she surveyed the dim air to assess what she could. Gunnar stood over a collection of bodies of his own, heavy two-handed axe balanced easily in both hands. Randvi’s agents, Sunniva and Norvid, she was fairly certain, were still moving around, searching out any elements who might be hiding.</p><p>It took Eivor a few minutes to find Randvi, still near the top of the hill. She cut a striking image, one that would surprise most, she thought. Standing there in the fading light like a Valkyrie, fire red hair, an axe in one hand and a hammer in the other. It was enough to seize Eivor’s lungs and tighten her throat uncomfortably. Eivor managed to raise her axe to Randvi, earning a smile and a raised axe in return. And that is when Eivor saw it, ice flooding her veins. A shadowy figure was moving up fast behind Randvi.</p><p>Eivor heard her Mother’s scream in her ears even as she gave one of her own, shouting Randvi’s name. Her legs felt like lead as she lurched forward, racing up the hill toward Randvi. For the first time that she could remember she felt as if she simply could not move fast enough, scrambling over the mist and blood soaked mud to get up the hill to Randvi. For her part, Randvi was startled at Eivor’s reaction and turned to look behind her.</p><p>And then, just as suddenly as Eivor had begun her panicked scramble, she found herself stopping as pain lanced through her. She was still about ten feet from a confused Randvi, and when she looked down at herself she was surprised. An arrowhead protruded through the front of her stomach and Eivor blinked at the sight of it. A dull roar from one of the raiders echoed behind her and she turned her gaze back up to Randvi.</p><p>“Eivor!” Randvi shouted and rushed forward to her. This was hardly the first time Eivor had been struck with an arrow, but her mind was fumbling too slowly to recall if she had ever been run through by one before. Of course, she was not wearing armor at the moment either. Eivor forced her eyes back up as she felt Randvi’s hands settle on her arms, supporting her. She managed to flash a smile at Randvi.</p><p>“It’s okay… not that bad,” she replied a bit weakly. And the truth was, she did not feel that bad. Yet. Getting the arrow out was going to be far worse than getting it in had been. But her soft answer did little to chase away the concern on Randvi’s face, and Eivor turned her head as Gunnar came up behind her. “I should probably lay down though.” The dizzying thickness in her head was starting to turn into a crushing exhaustion, and pain was finally starting to radiate out of her head. Suddenly, Coelbert was there, looking panicked. “Coelbert? You’re supposed to be inside.”</p><p>“You utter fool,” Randvi was chastising her even as she felt Gunnar’s arms grab her from behind. “I was not under attack,” Randvi’s gruff tone was a poor mask for her concern. “It was Coelbert.” Eivor felt her strength fail her as the battle fury faded and she slumped back against Gunnar, her face twisting in pain.</p><p>----------------------------------------</p><p>Eivor did not wake up again for almost two days. She was unconscious when they worked the arrow out of her and though she screamed when they cauterized it, Randvi was quite sure she was not truly awake for it. Despite a few protests, she had ordered Eivor placed in her own bed so that she could observe her recovery. Coelbert and Valka had helped her keep watch while she worked, but Eivor had still occupied most of her time.</p><p>When Randvi heard a soft groan from her bedroom she left the Alliance table immediately. Eivor was laid out carefully beneath the covers, a damp cloth over her forehead. Over the past day she had started showing signs of a fever, and Valka was treating her for infection. There was not much else they could do. Randvi made her way around the bed and sat down on the edge of it, reaching out to touch Eivor carefully. Her eyes were open but they did not seem to be focused on anything. And then, ever so slowly, Eivor’s eyes made their way to Randvi’s face and the warrior seemed to relax.</p><p>“Randvi,” Eivor said her name with such soft reverence it made Randvi’s heart clench in her chest. She leaned as Eivor raised a shaky hand to touch her cheek. “You are okay?” Randvi could not help a soft laugh that escaped her.</p><p>“I am quite fine, Eivor. You rather overreacted, you fool,” her words were gently delivered and teasing in nature. Eivor let out a coarse laugh and Randvi straightened. She reached up and pulled the cloth away from Eivor’s forehead, dropping it into a bowl of water to refresh it. “And you are awake, finally, which is a very good sign.” Eivor smiled almost sleepily up at Randvi and she caught herself before she could let too much of her feelings slip onto her face.</p><p>“I feel great,” Eivor argued, although the normal vigor was absent from her voice and gave away her lie. “I’ll be up in an hour.” Randvi laughed at her and wrung out the cloth before putting it back on her forehead.</p><p>“No. You’ll stay in bed until Valka and I agree that you can get up.” Randvi scolded her and Eivor groaned loudly in protest. But she simply ignored her protests as she carefully pulled the blankets down to check the exit wound on her stomach. Randvi ran gentle fingertips over the burn mark where they had sealed the wound shut. The ripple of Eivor’s abdominal muscles told her it hurt, but to her credit, the Wolf-Kissed did not make a sound. Still, Randvi was pleased to find the redness and heat was fading.</p><p>“Randvi,” Eivor finally spoke again, “I need to deal with those raiders. Find out where they came from. Danes have no business raiding our settlement.” She started to push herself up, groaning faintly from stiffness and discomfort. Randvi shook her head and put her hands on Eivor’s shoulders, wrestling her back down into the pillows.</p><p>“No.” Her tone was firm enough to draw Eivor’s eyes up to her face in surprise. “You will do as I have said. As for the Danes, Dag captured a survivor. Once you are better, you can address him then to see what he will share.” Eivor sighed dramatically but seemed to give up her fight for freedom. At least for the moment. Randvi enjoyed her moment of victory. She had no doubt it would be a short one. “I am glad to see you awake and speaking sensibly, but you need to rest still.” Eivor grumbled a bit, but turned her attention to Randvi.</p><p>“You are okay though? I saw someone behind you-” Randvi cut Eivor off with a nod. She had seen the absolute panic in Eivor’s face as she charged up the hill toward her, and it had pierced her heart like an arrow. Until that moment she had never seen Eivor like that. The normally quite stoic Wolf-Kissed had looked so… haunted.</p><p>“Yes. I am uninjured. The person you saw was Coelbert. You gave him quite a fright, by the way. He was very worried you would die.” Eivor managed a smirk at that and shook her head. “When you’ve recovered a bit further I will let him in to see you. Are you hungry?” Eivor nodded at that.</p><p>“I am starving.” Randvi smiled and stood up to retrieve food and drink for Eivor.</p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>01 Julfest, 873 (Sunnudagr)<br/>Ravensthorpe was alive with excitement as the village approached its first Jul celebration. Even the Saxon members of the village seemed to be getting excited. Eivor, having finally been permitted to leave her sickbed by Randvi, had promised that the settlement would respect the Christian traditions of the Saxons who lived there as well. It had created a new kind of excitement for everyone. The Saxons were keen to see how a Jul festival would play out, and a great many of the Norsemen were curious about the Christ-mas they heard so much about.</p><p>Petra and Wallace had helped lead the raiders on hunts for boars and the hams that resulted from those successful hunts were almost done curing. There would be plenty of feasting available. Tekla’s mead was ready, and the rest of it was all coming together quite nicely. Eivor had agreed to not go on the hunts at Randvi’s insistence, and so had instead stayed back to help prepare in other ways. A few times she had caught Randvi watching her as she led the children around the village tossing decorations into the many trees. It was not as easy as decorating the heavy, needle-leaved trees of Norway, but it made for a fun sport nonetheless.</p><p>For now, Eivor was bent over a table in the bright winter sun. Gunnar and Dag had dragged several tables out of the longhouse so the children could work on their Jul goats in the sun while it lasted. While such craftsmanship had never been her strong suit, Eivor found herself enjoying teaching all the children how to make them. Some, like Knud, already knew how of course, and were helping to teach the younger ones.</p><p>“Like this,” Eivor demonstrated how to twist the straw around the wood base for Sylvi. “There you go,” she encouraged when Sylvi managed it. Reda lingered nearby, much “too old” to engage in such activities, but clearly curious anyway. Eivor reached out and gently smoothed a hand over Sylvi’s bouncy blonde hair as she struggled with her own Jul goat.</p><p>When Eivor looked up she smiled to catch Randvi watching her from the doorway of the longhouse. It seemed like whenever she was with the children she would catch Randvi watching her. Sometimes, on much rarer occasions, she would manage to convince Randvi to join them. Eivor found it a bit fun to watch Randvi struggle with how awkward she clearly felt with the children, but once she got past that initial feeling, Randvi was as natural with them as anyone. She doubted she would be able to convince Randvi today, not with all the work still to be done to prepare for Jul tonight.</p><p>“Okay,” Eivor spoke to the children, looking around the table. “Looks like everyone is done with their goats? Knud, can you finish Ragna’s? She’s having trouble getting it to stay.” The boy nodded and moved to help the younger girl sitting next to him. “Once we clean up here who wants to go gather up our logs for the first night?” That got the children excited again. Eivor had seen the raiders helping to cut and collect Jul logs for the village this morning, so there should be plenty for the children to pick from.</p><p>----------------------------------------</p><p>“Randvi?” Eivor called out softly as she walked into the longhouse. It was decorated for Jul and looked stunning to her. While she had been in Grantebridge she was a little worried she would miss the Clan’s first Jul in England, but she had made it home in time. Only to then be laid up in bed with that stupid arrow injury. It still hurt a little, but it was getting easier to take each day, and she was already functionally back to normal. After Jul she would leave for East Anglia to deal with the raiders.</p><p>After a minute she heard something and headed to the far end of the longhouse. There she found Randvi and Coelbert wrestling barrel stands for mead into place for the feast. Given that neither of them had noticed her, Eivor indulged herself for a moment to enjoy the shape of Randvi as she bent over the stand. The way her breeches fit so tightly, and her tunic hung over her hips. Sigurd was a fool to ever leave home. If she had a wife as beautiful as Randvi, it would take an act of the gods just to get her out of their marriage bed. For the briefest moment, the smallest slip of her otherwise ironclad self-control, Eivor let herself imagine a life where Randvi was her wife, not Sigurd’s. A life full of fire-kissed children, long nights full of passion, and a million tiny moments woven into a tapestry of happiness. The kind of life that Ivarr had spoken so ill of in Ledecestre, where she got fat and old and chased around tiny Eivors and Randvis for exercise.</p><p>“Oh, Eivor!” Coelbert’s voice cut through her fantasy. Eivor blinked and straightened away from the wall, looking to Coelbert in surprise. “I did not hear you approach. We are finishing preparations for the First Night’s feast.” Eivor found Randvi looking at her too now.</p><p>“I see that,” she answered easily. “This should be enough stands, I think. We do not want to drink all of Tekla’s mead in one night,” she teased them as she approached. “The children’s Jul goats are done. Are you sure you do not wish to make one, Coelbert? It is not just for children.” But he shook his head again. So far he was very interested in the festivities, but keeping his distance. Eivor suspected it was a sense of duty to his own faith, and she could respect that. After all, her curiosity at Christian rituals was hardly leading her to practice prayer as they did.</p><p>“Very well,” Eivor responded when Coelbert declined. “The children are going to pick out their logs soon, and then I think we will be ready for the feast.” She folded her arms over her chest as she spoke with them. “Will you join us, Randvi, or do you want me to pick one out for you?” Randvi smiled at her and shook her head.</p><p>“No, I think I have time to join you. Coelbert, you can come along. Even if you do not wish to pick one, you can see it.” Coelbert nodded and Eivor gave him a soft pat on the shoulder before walking past both of them. The children were infectiously excited to pick out their Jul logs, and Eivor found herself quickly lost among a pack of them as headed for the assembled woodpile.</p><p>----------------------------------------</p><p>Randvi drank deeply from her mug before placing it on the table. Eivor was gathered around the hearth with the children as they finished putting their Jul logs onto the flames. Knud in particular was struggling, having chosen a log for himself that was nearly as big as he was. She could hear Eivor’s rich laughter as she caught Knud by the collar of his tunic, yanking him back as he nearly tumbled forward into the fire. And then she was saying something to the children which sent them back to their parents as the fire roared.</p><p>Watching Eivor interact with children was something special. Knowing what she did about her, it made sense, but it still felt a little magical. If one was not paying attention, it was as if Eivor became a different person altogether. But Randvi could see how the two halves came into one whole. How the stoic yet charming, quick-witted Eivor was also just a little girl looking for the family she had lost. The Wolf-Kissed strived at all times to be everything for everyone, but Randvi got the sense that she was only ever really just Eivor when she was with the children. It showed in her dedication to them. When she was home, when no one else was pressing a responsibility into her hands, Eivor gravitated back to the children.</p><p>Randvi found Eivor playing with them, indulging whatever odd little fantasies the smallest of the children came up with. She found Eivor cradling babies so their Mothers could have a little time to rest or get other tasks done. Down at the docks, teaching them to fish, in the flat ring to the west teaching the older children the fundamentals of combat. Telling them stories. Eivor, Petra, and Wallace would take them hunting, show them how to lay traps, field dress the game. And whenever there was a festival, Eivor was always to be found amongst the children of the Clan, swept up in their unabashed joy. And then she would usher them off to bed - not one of the children would fight Eivor on the matter the way they would fight their parents.</p><p>Sometimes Randvi thought it was a great crime that Eivor had so far been denied a husband or a wife and a dozen children of her own. But Eivor swore up and down that it was not a life she wanted. A lie Randvi could easily see through, but did not call out. With the children dispersing, likely to tell their parents goodnight after putting their logs to the fire, Eivor stood and stretched. She flexed and Randvi could just make out the play of her muscles, highlighted by the fire between them. And then Eivor was looking up and grinning at her across the party.</p><p>As Eivor moved across the longhouse, Randvi finished the mead that was left in her mug. She put it down and shifted more upright, dropping her feet to the floor to clear a stool for Eivor. As expected, Eivor settled easily onto the stool and flashed her charming smile at Randvi. Randvi grabbed the mug she had been keeping aside for Eivor and pushed it toward her.</p><p>“Enjoying the festival, Randvi?” Eivor picked up the mug and took a long drink from it. Randvi nodded as she watched Eivor drink.</p><p>“I am. I love Jul. Though it is a bit weird to see one with no snow for the first time.” Randvi laughed softly and Eivor joined her.</p><p>“I do miss the snow. And the vigor brought on by the cold of our winters. But it feels right that we are here. This land has so much to offer.” Randvi nodded in agreement. “Plus, we had snow a week ago, so perhaps we may get some more before Jul is over.” Eivor leaned forward into Randvi’s space. “But more importantly… I believe it is your turn to celebrate this night.” Eivor winked at her.</p><p>Randvi and Eivor had developed something of an unspoken agreement over the years, and it had solidified even more since arriving in England. Only one of them would get into their cups at a time, leaving the other with a level enough head to handle any issues that arose. It seemed to work well, and they used it even on those rare nights Sigurd was present as he enjoyed drinking himself to a stupor. Randvi smirked at Eivor and nodded.</p><p>“Then I suppose I shall refill my cup. And show Hytham what he is missing with his abstinence,” Randvi laughed gently and stood, walking to the far end of the longhouse where the mead barrels were being kept.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Tale of Thegn Oswald</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Soma visits Ravensthorpe at Eivor’s invitation.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>24 Sólmánuður, 874 (Þórsdagr)<br/>Eivor’s face lit up with excitement as Soma stepped onto the dock. She threw her arms wide and approached the Jarlskona of Grantebridge, grasping her shoulders in a warm welcome. Soma was smiling back at her, not quite as open and broad as Eivor’s, but genuine nonetheless. Randvi stood a bit back on the docks as the two women greeted each other. Birna stood next to her. An uncomfortable pang hit her in the chest as she watched them. And then almost as quickly as they joined, they were stepping apart.</p>
<p>“Randvi!” Eivor called, and she smiled politely, stepping forward as Eivor waved her over. “Randvi, come meet Soma Jarlskona! Soma, this is Randvi. Randvi is the true mind and heart of Ravensthorpe.” Randvi found herself blushing a little at the flattering introduction and moved closer, inclining her head politely to Soma.</p>
<p>“I would not go so far as to say that, but it is a pleasure to meet you, Soma. Eivor speaks very highly of you.” Soma reached out to shake hands and Randvi returned the gesture.</p>
<p>“If it is even half as highly as she speaks of you, Randvi, then I have quite a bit to live up to.” Randvi’s subtle blush got a lot less subtle and she found herself clearing her throat a little uncomfortably. She rarely attracted so much attention from visitors. Or even from the residents of Ravensthorpe, really. Luckily, Eivor interrupted the moment to spare her from revealing herself.</p>
<p>“Come! We’ve a feast ready, and just because your Clan may throw the best feasts does not mean a Raven Clan feast should be missed!” Eivor yanked both of them under arms, one to either side of her, and guided them back toward the longhouse. Birna was laughing at all of them as she joined in on Soma’s other side.</p>
<p>                           ----------------------------------------</p>
<p>Eivor roared with laughter as she drank heavily with Soma. Randvi found herself feeling a little jealous. She had resolved when she learned Soma would be arriving today to let Eivor have her fun with her new friend, so she had kept her own drinking to a minimum. She was still a little envious as she watched them enjoy the celebrations in such a carefree manner, however. It was rare to see Eivor so relaxed, so committed to the moment.</p>
<p>Randvi looked away when she felt someone brush up against her shoulder. When she looked over she found Birna standing there, mug in hand. She found herself nodding at the woman a little awkwardly. Eivor was rather fond of Birna, but Randvi had not yet quite figured out what to make of her. At times she seemed crass, but mostly her determined joyfulness felt… Randvi could not quite put a word to it. And yet, she also seemed very genuine, and the growing bond between her and Eivor could not be denied.</p>
<p>“It’s a bit hard to look at them sometimes, isn’t it?” Randvi shook off her thoughts as Birna spoke. She glanced at the other woman again and covered her momentary confusion by taking a drink.</p>
<p>“Hmm? How do you mean?”</p>
<p>“The two of them, especially together, like this. They tend to shine a bit like the sun, but also soak up all the air in the room.” Randvi found herself considering Birna’s comment. She would not actually describe Eivor in such a way. Eivor did not particularly like having all of the attention on her. But as she rolled the words over in her mind she realized that Birna was right, whether Eivor liked it or not. Eivor commanded attention in any space she was in. And if she stretched her mind back, she could remember Sigurd bemoaning exactly that about his beloved sister. He often felt he was competing against her in a game she did not even know was being played.</p>
<p>“Something like that, yes,” Randvi agreed quietly. When she looked back to Birna she saw the way she was watching Soma as the proud Jarlskona engaged Eivor in an arm wrestling show of strength. Leave it to warriors to always come back to feats of strength. At least Eivor had not challenged anyone to climb the longhouse yet. Though Randvi was sure it was coming. One of the raiders broke his arm falling from the rafters last time. Somehow, no matter how drunk she was, Eivor never fell.</p>
<p>Randvi found herself instead studying Birna. She had tried not to dwell on the woman’s increasing friendship with Eivor. Eivor deserved more close friends, she needed them. Not everything in Eivor’s life could rely on Sigurd and Valka, especially not with Sigurd gone constantly. And Randvi had no place feeling possessive over Eivor’s time or feelings. And yet… she found herself increasingly curious and worried about the relationship. For all her teasing that Eivor should marry, it had always eased her heart a little that Eivor rebuked such suggestions aggressively. It was not particularly comforting that she felt her only future lay in Valhalla, but still, knowing that her heart’s desire was technically still out there, available… it was a very selfish comfort. But a comfort nonetheless.</p>
<p>“You have become quite keen on Eivor these last months,” Randvi stated calmly. Perhaps she could get a little information out of Birna. Eivor was surprisingly close lipped on such things, throwing off any question of romantic intent with apparent obliviousness. Could she really be that oblivious when she was elsewise always so astute? It seemed suspicious. “I have never seen Eivor become so attached to someone quite so quickly.” Randvi managed a genuine smile for Birna. “Is there something more there?”</p>
<p>Birna laughed at the question and Randvi flushed hotly for a second. The reaction did not seem malicious, but she was embarrassed by it regardless. But her attention stayed on Birna as the other woman shook her head and drained her mug of mead. Randvi found herself waiting for a real response with a sense of irritation.</p>
<p>“No,” Birna finally answered with a shake of her head. “No, I’ve already lost my heart to one lost cause. Don’t need to do it with another.” Randvi noticed Birna’s vision cutting away and followed it back to Eivor and Soma. The center of everyone’s attention. But if it was not Eivor, then she must mean Soma. Another pang of jealousy went through Randvi as she watched them celebrating together. “Besides,” Birna’s voice cut through Randvi’s thoughts again, “Eivor has already lost her heart. She doesn’t seem the type to change course. No use chasing what you can’t catch.” Randvi frowned slightly.</p>
<p>“What?” She blinked at Birna, confused at her comment. Birna did not seem bothered by her confusion.</p>
<p>“Your girl is already a lovesick pup for someone she can’t have. That’s why we’re friends. Shared pain.” Randvi’s stomach fluttered dangerously at that and she found herself staring at Eivor across the longhouse again. For the briefest of moments, Randvi let herself entertain a fantasy she had refused for years. A fantasy of Eivor standing in front of her, telling her that she felt the same. Of the soft press of Eivor’s lips on her own, to feel the muscles of her arms and stomach clench and tighten beneath her fingers. Of a future where Eivor loved her as much as she loved her. It was foolish, and childish, and impossible. Eivor would never feel that way about her. She would never see her as more than Sigurd’s wife, and a friend. That Eivor was as generous with her praise and trust was just a symptom of Eivor’s character.</p>
<p>“That must be so miserable for her,” Randvi said softly, not even realizing she let the words out. “I never would have guessed.” Birna made a soft noise of agreement next to her.</p>
<p>“No. She hides it well. Better than anyone I’ve ever met.”</p>
<p>                           ----------------------------------------</p>
<p>Eivor stood in the sunshine with Soma on the edge of the bluff that overlooked Ravensthorpe. She loved coming up here to see how the settlement was changing. It was a beautiful sight, one she never seemed to tire of drinking in. On busy days the sound of hammers and work would drift up to the bluff on the wind. But today it was quiet as everyone tried to recover from the feast the night before. Eivor dropped down on the edge of the bluff, letting her legs dangle over the cliff. After a moment, Soma joined her, though she sat a little bit back from the edge. Eivor was used to such things, only Petra ever came all the way to the edge with her.</p>
<p>“It is a beautiful settlement, Eivor. You should be very proud of what you’ve done with it,” Soma spoke clearly, as she always seemed to do. “I was here, briefly, before the Ragnarssons abandoned it. Though they built a longhouse, they never bothered to build much more. I do not think they ever saw it as more than a stopping point on their glorious saga.” Eivor nodded faintly, but she could not ignore the swell of pride she felt when Soma complimented Ravensthorpe. She was very proud of their little settlement, and how fast it was growing.</p>
<p>“Randvi deserves most of the credit. She is the one here every day, doing all the work that keeps it running, keeps it growing. I know the alliances help, and the raids of course, but she’s the heart of us.” Eivor’s cheeks flushed red when she realized how close she was getting to slipping up and saying the wrong thing. She swallowed, hoping Soma had not noticed.</p>
<p>“Do not diminish your own work, Eivor.” It would seem Eivor was lucky, and if Soma had noticed she was not going to mention it. “I have seen how the people here treat you. They hold you in the highest regard. You have their respect and trust, as a good leader should.” Eivor was glad her cheeks were already a little red otherwise they would be now. She glanced over at Soma to find the woman smiling at her.</p>
<p>“I am not their leader though. I am simply holding his place while he is away. He is, where did he say, Oxenefordscire, now. I am his second, acting in his name.” And constantly avoiding fights with Dag, as it were. Eivor frowned when she realized that it sounded as if she were complaining, or unhappy with her position. “Not that I mind. This was all Sigurd’s vision. It was his idea to come to England, to settle here, to forge alliances. He is my Jarl, and I am happy to serve him.” When she looked over at Soma she saw an odd expression on the woman’s face.</p>
<p>“The title doesn’t define the leader, Eivor. It is the commitment, the responsibility. These are your people, and I can tell from the way you talk about them, and they you… you are a leader. They respect you, and they follow you. That is the part that matters. And if you keep it up, you’ll rival Grantebridge in no time.” Soma added the last bit with a soft laugh and Eivor joined her, shaking her head.</p>
<p>“Match, maybe, but never rival. I would have our little pieces of this world be eternal friends, were it in my power to make it so, Soma.” Eivor reached out and gently punched Soma’s shoulder, feeling a touch awkward. It was always a little weird for her in the beginning, gauging where the boundaries sat for touching others. But Soma did not seem to mind.</p>
<p>“So what is next for Ravensthorpe?” Soma asked genuinely, lifting one knee and resting an arm on it. Eivor leaned back away from the edge, dropping her hands behind her to support her weight. She considered the question for a minute before answering.</p>
<p>“I am thinking it is time to build our cattle farm. By the time I get back from Lunden we may have enough wealth accumulated to invest in our fishing capabilities or a chicken farm, so we might start those farms. We have not had enough time for crops this fall, so we need to focus on things that can sustain us through the winter and generate enough trade value to get us wheat and vegetables. I understand some of it we can grow here even in the winter, but still. This winter will be hard, but only so the others can be less lean.” Eivor nodded, confident in her answer. They were already attracting trade, but so far it had been mostly Ravensthorpe acquiring goods while bleeding silver. The balance needed to shift if the settlement was going to survive long-term. “I do not think we will be big enough to need mighty walls like Grantebridge for some time yet.”</p>
<p>Soma nodded, clearly listening intently to what Eivor had to say. Eivor found her feelings around Soma to be curious and foreign. She could not remember feeling such a desire to impress someone in a very long time. To serve someone, to honor them, to exceed expectations, yes. But genuinely impress someone? To earn their approval? That was new for her as an adult. She tried to think of the last time she had felt it and she had been a teenager, trying to prove her worth to the withdrawn and distant paternal figure that was Styrbjorn. In some respects she had earned it as she excelled in training as a shield maiden, a warrior. But part of her felt he had always somehow disapproved of her success at the same time, as if she had succeeded too well. Eivor had earned a lot of praise that probably should have gone to Sigurd, future King of Rygjafylke. Sigurd had never begrudged her that praise, however, and had often been among the first to pile it atop her. He had always taken such pride in her, it almost made up for the damningly faint praise from Styrbjorn.</p>
<p>“A solid strategy. But know that you can call upon Grantebridge to help you through this winter, Eivor. We are allies now, and friends. The fields of Grantebridgescire are fertile and rich. It would be our honor to help a friend survive lean months.” Eivor felt as if all the weight of building Ravensthorpe was taken off her shoulders with just that simple acknowledgement. Though she was unlikely to call upon them for much - it did not serve well to overburden one's friends - it told her exactly how much Soma thought of her.</p>
<p>“Your offer is a generous one. I will remember it, Soma. Thank you.” Eivor turned her face to the sun as it escaped the shield cover of a cloud and closed her eyes, letting the heat of it sink into her skin. While the lush green land of England was far more beautiful than she could have imagined, she did find herself missing Norway sometimes. Not in these moments, when the air and the wind held just the right amount of chill that she could soak up the sun without overheating. But sometimes. “Do you ever miss Norway?”</p>
<p>Her question was greeted first with silence. It persisted long enough that Eivor opened her eyes and turned her head to look at Soma. She found the woman in apparent contemplation, but she did not repeat herself. If Soma did not want to answer, she was not going to push. And maybe she was just considering her answer.</p>
<p>“Only rarely, if I am honest. All of my connections to Norway came to England with me. My home has always been in Guthrum’s army, and now it is in Grantebridge. If anything, I miss the mountains. The months of endless sun, and endless dark. But England is beauty all her own, and overall, she has been kind to me.” Soma looked up and smiled at Eivor. “Do you? Miss Norway?” Eivor nodded.</p>
<p>“Sometimes. Rygjafylke was the home of my parents. They lived out their entire lives there, and my ancestors, the clan I was born to. They all lived and died there. I never imagined leaving.” Eivor found herself wondering, sometimes, if she could have lived under King Harald. He did not seem a bad man, or a bad ruler. And unlike Sigurd, she had never expected to inherit anything. There was nothing left of the Bear Clan to inherit. Until they arrived here, the only future Eivor had looked to was a place in Valhalla. “It feels… shameful, but there is a freedom here that I enjoy. All of that history, I carry it with me, but the rocks and trees and rivers do not hum with it as they did in Norway. Every rock I turn over is not a stone laid in place by my Father before me.” She glanced back to Soma and found her nodding in agreement. Eivor was reminded in that moment Soma had been orphaned too. Perhaps it was that, beyond being leaders, that generated the connection she felt between them. Two women without homes or families, building their own in new lands.</p>
<p>Soma nodded, and the two women let silence hang between them. It was a natural, easy silence, so Eivor simply turned her face back to the sun and welcomed the blessing of its warmth on her skin. In time she could learn much from Soma, learn to be a leader like she was. It seemed to her that Soma found glory less in battle than in the hard work of keeping her city afloat. Maybe she could find that glory too.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am starting back to work full-time as of today, so my posting schedule may slow down as this will significantly impact the amount of time I have available to dick around and think about writing (before actually, you know, doing any writing). I am already working on the Jorvik chapter, and I will keep writing, but updates may slow down a bit.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The City of War</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Scene 1: 	Eivor in the sparring ring with a variety of opponents.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Haldis is my Jomsviking OC.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>21 Haustmánuður, 874 (Sunnudagr)<br/>Eivor nodded carefully at Knud and then stepped aside quickly as the boy charged at her. He tripped over his own velocity when he did not collide with Eivor, and landed face down in the soft earth of the fighting ring. Sylvi and Eira laughed from the rail but were silenced by a sharp look from Eivor. Then she bent down and helped him up, noting the embarrassed look on his face. She squatted down to his level to better speak to him.</p><p>“Hey, that wasn’t bad, okay? But I’m bigger than you, stronger than you, and faster than you. So you have to be smarter than me.” Eivor gently tapped a finger against Knud’s forehead. “This is the best muscle you have in a fight, no matter how big you are. Or how big the other fighter is. Keep this muscle sharp and you will win more than you will lose.” She smiled as he nodded seriously. Sylvi had been the one to seek her out, telling her that Knud was learning to be a warrior but he wanted to learn from her. So she had set aside some time to instruct him, and any of the other children who wanted, while she was home. “You might get lucky, and end up tall and broad like your Father. You might not. Never depend on luck, it will fail you when you can least afford it. Now, go pick up the shield and we will start proper.” Eivor straightened and turned, surprised to see that Randvi had joined the children at the rail of the ring.</p><p>“Offering instruction in combat now as well, Eivor,” Randvi teased lightly. Eivor laughed and shrugged as she approached the edge of the ring. She held her hand out and Eira handed her the empty haft for a bearded axe. Gunnar said it would not hold an axe head properly, which made it a perfect training tool instead. Eivor flipped it easily in one hand, settling her grip on it.</p><p>“I was asked,” she answered finally. “And besides, it will keep me fit.” That drew a smirk to Randvi’s lips and Eivor’s smile softened a bit. She did spend a significant amount of her time training, so it was unlikely she would suddenly become unfit any time soon. Still, every experience was a learning experience. And maybe someday she would teach her own sons and daughters. Eivor flushed at the thought. Where had that come from? She had never envisioned herself with a family of her own. Her future was not long enough for such things.</p><p>“Well, I imagine you will make a fine tutor,” Randvi continued as if Eivor’s brief but dramatic internal monologue went unnoticed. Small mercies then.</p><p>“We shall see.” Eivor glanced over at Knud as Sylvi helped him tighten the straps around his arm. He would get better at it with practice, of course. The boy already knew how to wield a practice axe and a dagger quite well, credit to his Father’s attention no doubt. Knud’s Father was one of their better raiders, not a remarkable fighter, but a dependable one. And one who came home raid after raid, the only mark of success that truly mattered. “Are you ready, Knud?” Eivor flashed a quick smile at Randvi and moved to meet the boy in the center of the ring when he nodded.</p><p>“Now, this is a lesson for all of you, so pay attention. Knud, you’ll be helping me.” Eivor noted the way he straightened his back a little at the suggestion that he was more of a helper than a student. “What is the best way to protect yourself from a blow?”</p><p>“Block it!” Eira shouted from outside the ring. Eivor acknowledged her but then shook her head.</p><p>“A good answer, a strong one, but not the best solution. The best answer is to make them miss, if you can.” She could see the children trying to work out how that was better. “Even with a shield, getting hit will hurt. And it is tiring. But so is missing when you swing. If you can make them miss you, then you save your strength and eat through theirs. It makes them tired and vulnerable faster. Knud, help me demonstrate. Block my blows.”</p><p>Knud fussed with the small shield Gunnar had constructed for the children, struggling a little with the unnatural weight and shape of it. Eivor could tell he had not been started on the shield yet, and she would focus on that first after this lesson. The axe and shield was the staple of combat for raiders, and even if he later used something else, he would need to know this first. When he finished fidgeting she stepped back before beginning her attack.</p><p>Eivor was surprised at just how difficult it was to pull her blows, to be careful not to hit him too hard but also not to make a show of it and embarrass him. Maybe her jest to Randvi had been true, and this would keep her fit. It was rather tiring. But Knud was doing a good job of keeping his shield up and blocking the blows. Long before the weird strain on her muscles got to her, she noticed Knud was starting to struggle. So she pulled back and straightened, tossing the haft to the edge of the ring.</p><p>Knud was breathing hard when she moved around to kneel in the sand next to him and help remove the ties on the shield. It was not proper form, but she let him drop it and reached up to gently touch his shoulder. When he did not wince or flinch at her touch she was satisfied that he was just tired, maybe a touch bruised. Eivor gave him a soft bump to the cheek with her closed fist.</p><p>“You did good,” she delivered the praise softly so that only he would hear it. Knud, in her experience, did not always like feeling singled out. So she straightened and rested a hand on his opposite shoulder so she could address all of the children. And technically Randvi. A few others had gathered as well. “Your shoulder feels sore now, right? That’s from taking the hits. It is not a bad thing to absorb a blow with a shield, far better than catching it with your arm or your chest. But it still hurts. A blow that misses is one that you do not have to carry with you for the rest of the fight.”</p><p>Eivor looked down at Knud and then tousled his hair gently before urging him toward the edge of the ring. He took the dismissal for what it was and ran to join Eira and Sylvi where they waited for him. If he still had the energy to play then she guessed she had judged his endurance correctly. For all that she loved spending time with the Raven Clan children, she’d never spent much time with them as a teacher. She was a drengr, her job was to protect them. Once she had asked Styrbjorn if she could help with teaching their combat lessons, but he had been opposed. He had said she was too young and driven to know how to measure her own strength yet. That was why, according to him, the teachers were old raiders who had outlived their glory years.</p><p>“Eivor!” A voice boomed as she picked up Knud’s shield and carried it to the gate of the ring. When she looked up she grinned to see Haldis striding toward her in her full armor. “Do you have the strength for a real exercise? Or did little Knud exhaust you?” Eivor’s grin turned into a sharp smirk as she heard the challenge. She looked to where Randvi was and wasn’t surprised to find the children still lingering, excitement in their eyes.</p><p>“You three, go fetch my axes from the longhouse. It seems I have one more mighty drengr to teach today!” Randvi laughed and all three of the children raced off, each one eager to be the first to lay hands on one of Eivor’s axes. She turned her attention back to Haldis. “Or shall I fetch training weapons? I would not wish to injure you, friend.” Haldis let out her deep, booming laugh and hopped over the fence into the ring.</p><p>“Let’s see who learns a lesson today.”</p><p>                           ----------------------------------------</p><p>Randvi loved watching Eivor spar with a worthy opponent. There was a hypnotic effect to seeing Eivor fight in any circumstance, but in a sparring ring she did not need to worry about ending up dead because she was distracted. In the years she had known her, Eivor had preferred to carry two smaller weapons and focus on killing her foes before defending herself even needed to be an option. Obviously it was not a perfect tactic, but then none of them were. But it also meant that Eivor focused on being fast, accurate, and agile. Her fighting style was all about getting into range and then out of it as fast as possible, and it made her very lean compared to many of the other fighters. Randvi herself fought with dual weapons as well, but she preferred the hammer as her primary, and she was nowhere near as practiced or as fast as Eivor.</p><p>No. Eivor was deadly, and the lethality showed even in practice.</p><p>But for all the boasting and bravado between Haldis and Eivor, Randvi was relieved when both women opted for a first blood practice. It meant both of them stripping out of armor - though Eivor had not been wearing any to begin with. With the heat of the midday sun beating down on them, Eivor also opted to remove her tunic and fight in just her binding and breeches. Randvi felt her mouth dry as Eivor stood in the sun, her tattoos on brilliant display. An axe in each hand, her weight settled into the cradle of her hips, balanced up on the balls of her feet. Ready to fight.</p><p>And then just like that, she was moving. No word of warning, no call to start. For her part, Haldis was also quite a sight to behold. With her dark black skin, rich brown eyes, and a short head of tightly curled red-black hair, Haldis caught attention everywhere she walked. Even taller than Eivor, which was saying something, Haldis preferred the shield and spear. She carried more bulky muscle than Eivor, but definitely had her beat on the reach of her weapons and outright defense. Within seconds, Eivor had closed on Haldis though, and several quick strikes landed on the jomsviking’s shield. Haldis laughed and gave Eivor a hard shove, sending her stumbling back. To Randvi’s eye it was obvious that neither was fully exerting themselves, there was no desire to harm. But Eivor was definitely hitting harder and moving faster than she had with the children.</p><p>Randvi watched as the sparring continued, flashes of frenzied activity and the clash of steel on steel interrupted by slow moments where the two studied each other. Eivor seemed almost to dance around the questing tip of Haldis’ spear as it would shoot forward, seeking her blood like it was gods sent. Meanwhile Haldis was a seemingly impenetrable wall, accepting blow after blow from Eivor’s lightning fast axes. In a short period of time both women were sweating and Randvi could feel her entire body clench as she watched the sweat gather and drip from Eivor’s muscles, staining her bindings and her breeches.</p><p>It seemed to make Eivor glow in the sunlight. The tight curls of her blonde hair, which Randvi was pleased to see was finally growing back out after Eivor had cropped it so short upon arriving in England, were flattened tight against her forehead from her sweat. A deep, throaty chuckle echoed from Eivor and Randvi watched her a little too keenly as she reached up to wipe the sweat from her brow. Randvi found herself longing to be the one to wipe it away. She swallowed hard against the thought she absolutely should not be having. But it was hard to stop them.</p><p>Eivor said something to someone, but Randvi could not have told Odin himself what it was. As if she was wrapped in a cloud of silence, where all she could see was Eivor. A gasp left her lips when Haldis suddenly jumped forward with surprising agility and slammed her shield into Eivor, sending her stumbling back and down onto one knee. But before she could even fully summon her concern, Eivor was chuckling and surging back to her feet. The Wolf-Kissed dropped her axes into the soft soil and charged at Haldis, catching her with her full weight.</p><p>Haldis crashed to the ground, her spear falling free from her grasp. And from there Eivor was upon her, pinning the larger woman to the ground with her weight, having skillfully shifted all the way up onto Haldis’ chest. Before she could gather herself, Eivor had buried her knees against the inside of Haldis’ arms and had her pinned. Randvi felt a rush of forge fire flood her body, imagining for just a second what it would feel like to be trapped beneath Eivor in such a way. The thrill it sent through her was beyond inappropriate, but that did not stop it. And when she blinked she could see it on the screen of her eyelids as clearly as the sun. Staring up at Eivor, hot, sweaty, wearing only her breeches and bindings. Or worse, maybe nothing at all. To feel the press of her weight, the control, the powerlessness of it. For any hope of escape, of even breath, to sit so easily in Eivor’s ever-steady hands. To be able to run her hands, if Eivor allowed it, up her thighs. Feel the strong muscles beneath tight skin. The sense of wanting that followed hit Randvi like a blow to the heart, truer than any arrow ever shot.</p><p>“Eivor Wolf-Kissed!” Birna’s shout shocked Randvi out of the forbidden reverie and she found herself staring wide-eyed straight into Eivor’s eyes. Eivor, who was now standing over Haldis, one hand held out to help the woman up. All of the heat and lightning that had been building up inside her was drowned in a terrifying flash of ice as her heart stopped. Gods, Eivor had caught her out. She was cursed by her own poor self-control! Randvi did not even have a defense for her actions, but she was saved by Birna.</p><p>“I’m talking to you, Eivor!” Birna reached the ring as Haldis found her feet. “How are any of us supposed to have a chance of finding a wife in this village if you keep running about without your shirt on?” The laughter was barely hidden in Birna’s voice. And Eivor looked away to laugh with her new friend.</p><p>“Must you always flatter me, Birna. Keep it up and I shall start to wonder if you mean to make me your wife,” but Eivor did move back to the far side of the ring and pick up her tunic, pulling it back on carefully. Randvi wet her lips slightly and tried to think of her best way to get out of this situation. She should just leave, right? Yes. Just walk away like nothing happened. Maybe Eivor had not noticed? No, not with how observant the woman always was. Damn her anyway.</p><p>“Sorry to break your heart, Eivor, but I won’t marry anyone who isn’t prettier than me. Just because your Raven Clan women have been so deprived as to settle for your rippling muscles, does not mean I must.” Birna barked her return insult and Eivor let out a resounding laugh of her own in reply. Randvi was only half paying attention to either of them though, struggling to convince herself to just leave the ring. Just walk away, it was such a simple thing.</p><p>Then suddenly Eivor was walking toward her and she knew she could not just walk away now. She had tried that once, not long after the first anniversary of Sigurd being gone, and the crushing look of rejection that had momentarily flickered over Eivor’s face had devastated her. Keeping her distance from Eivor was impossible, it caused too much pain. So instead she stood there, facing down her death by humiliation.</p><p>“Randvi?” Eivor’s voice was all gentle, unrestrained concern. Gods, that made it worse. She should be furious with her, or at least taunting her for her obvious lust. But instead here she was, sounding like she was worried about her. “Randvi, are you okay?” Randvi’s mind was blank, as if she did not know a single word.</p><p>“I am fine,” she managed to croak out weakly. If only Thor would strike her in this moment. An eternity in the icy wastes of Niflheim would be preferable to this moment. It was so beyond her to act like this. She’d never let a fantasy pull her down so deep as to get caught before. Fool!</p><p>“You look as if you have had too much sun,” Eivor offered up gently, reaching out to touch Randvi’s shoulder. Please don’t touch me, Randvi thought to herself. Eivor’s hand felt like a coal fresh from the fire, burning straight through the fabric of her tunic and into her skin.</p><p>“This is what I mean,” Birna cut in. She approached Randvi from the side and roughly clapped her on the back, causing Randvi to jar forward slightly. “Even our noble Randvi is struck by your terrible antics, Eivor!” Randvi’s cheeks flushed, but fortunately her complexion usually protected her from being spotted when it happened.  Eivor tsked loudly in disagreement.</p><p>“You speak nonsense, Birna. Always chirping about me. If you wish to court me, you’ll have to try harder,” Eivor taunted back at Birna, earning another noise of playful disgust from the woman.</p><p>“No, no,” Randvi managed to cut in. “I was just thinking that I should take some time to practice as well. It has… been some time. I would hate to grow dull.” Eivor’s eyes lit up and she smiled brightly at Randvi.</p><p>“Well then, into the ring with you. See, Birna. None of your nonsense to be found.” Birna made a rude noise at the both of them but Randvi did not move. Eivor turned her attention away from Randvi for a second. “Children, go fetch Randvi’s weapons. They’ll be up in the longhouse.”</p><p>                           ----------------------------------------</p><p>Eivor smiled at Randvi as she watched her settle in across the ring from her. She was still a little worried that Randvi was not feeling well, she was acting a little odd. Almost sluggish. But if she was insistent she was fine then she was the person to know, and if she wanted to spar Eivor was not going to pass up a chance to spar with Randvi. Randvi was one of her favorite sparring partners.</p><p>To the surprise of those who did not know her well, Randvi was an exceptionally competent fighter. Not as skilled perhaps as many of their raiders, but Randvi spent her days doing more important work. Eivor did not doubt that Randvi would have been one of the best if she had been a shield maiden instead of managing the Clan’s daily business. Eivor was tired, and she could already feel a little just how sore she would be after all of this, but Randvi was worth it.</p><p>Randvi was worth any price.</p><p>Eivor rolled her shoulders gently and watched as Randvi got settled in. It might not be a bad cool down exercise. Of course, she was being a touch unfair. Randvi was a good, solid fighter. She could present more than a challenge if she wished to. Eivor could remember her parents' constant advice when she was little and just learning: arrogance is the death of any warrior, no matter how great. And Eivor was grateful she had never had to actually face Randvi in combat.</p><p>She blinked and suddenly Randvi was much closer, pressing her advantage. Eivor let out a distinctly undignified sound and threw one of her axes up, blocking the blow from Randvi’s hammer. Just as she had said to Knud, the shock of the blow radiated up her already tired arm and settled into her shoulder. Shit. She needed to pay attention or Randvi was going to beat her ass.</p><p>Randvi was smirking at her when Eivor pushed her back to make some space to move. Eivor smirked back at her. It had been entirely too long since she’d seen such a look on Randvi’s face, and she was thrilled to see it back where it belonged. A smile or a smirk from Randvi could light up the deepest darkness. And in this moment, it lit a fire inside of Eivor. But she was able to keep her focus. It was not the losing she was worried about as much as the making a fool of herself.</p><p>Eivor pushed her advantage for a moment, moving Randvi around the ring with a series of fake lunges meant only to move her. Randvi was grinning back at her and Eivor could imagine Randvi as a shield maiden, sailing the rivers of England with her in search of glory and riches. To her surprise, Randvi flipped it around and started pushing back, and Eivor found herself on the retreat now. She laughed as she jumped back from Randvi’s lunges and swipes, eyes dancing with excitement that was matched in Randvi’s face.</p><p>But then she hit something with her heel. Her eyes widened as she lost her balance and dropped back into the dirt. For a brief second her reflexes kicked in and the scream of battle hammered in her head. Her entire body tightened as her attacker landed on top of her, grappling with her. But then the smell of Randvi hit her, all soft spice and honey. Eivor felt the slamming of her heart drop off almost instantly and she shivered as the adrenaline fled her system. She stopped struggling with Randvi and accepted her loss, looking up at her.</p><p>After only maybe fifteen minutes of combat, Randvi’s hair was working loose from its braid. It seemed to hover around her head like Eivor imagined the halos Coelbert described angels wore would look. She was sweaty and warm, but the press of her body so close felt good. Entirely too good. Eivor swallowed around the thick feeling in her throat as she stared up at Randvi, highlighted from behind by the warm sun. For a second their eyes connected and Eivor was almost able to convince herself that she saw something there.</p><p>Almost. But fantasies were not reality, and it was dangerous to let the two intermingle.</p><p>“Do you yield?” Randvi asked, a subtle taunt in her words. Eivor bit her lip and looked up at Randvi, debating her options. It was unlikely she would be able to throw Randvi off without hurting her, though she could probably manage it. Still, the very idea of yielding to Randvi made her body stir in ways she disapproved of. Especially while she was actively trapped beneath her. No, no, best to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.</p><p>“I yield. But you know this is only because Haldis wore me out first,” Eivor taunted back. Randvi made a soft noise and lingered for just a second longer than necessary before pivoting off of her. As Randvi stood, Eivor sat up slowly. Then she took Randvi’s offered hands and climbed to her feet.</p><p>“Whatever you must tell yourself, drengr, to soothe your afflicted pride.” The reality was that she frequently lost to Randvi. A combination of her own distraction, Randvi’s skill, and Randvi’s stubborn favoritism for underhanded tactics, Eivor usually ended up yielding. Plus, there was the tiny fear at the back of her mind that she might actually hurt Randvi by accident, but she tried to tell herself that was a fear with every opponent in the training ring. And it was, but not to the same degree.</p><p>“Oh, the lady bites back,” Eivor teased. She bent down to gather up her weapons, avoiding looking at Randvi to closely.</p><p>“She does. How about a swim to cool down?” Randvi offered and Eivor found herself nodding before she could think better of it.</p><p>“A swim would be perfect. I may have to use the sauna tonight as well. I am going to be sore.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Vinland Saga</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eivor goes out hunting with Petra to try to process Randvi’s confession.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>10 Einmánuður, 874 (Óðinsdagr)<br/>Eivor finished settling Cab into his stall at Rowan’s barn. The ride back from Besuncen Tor had been easy for him, but he was still covered in now dry sweat from carrying both her and Randvi to Grantebridge and back. So she had taken her time washing him and then brushing him down. It was easy, mostly mindless work that let her try to process what all had happened.</p><p>She could still taste Randvi on her lips, like the almost polite kiss was haunting her. And each time she focused on that she could remember the lightning that had surged through her veins when Randvi had kissed her. Never, not once, in all these years, had she imagined it was possible for Randvi to feel such a way for her. Even when she found the letter from Thora where it was obvious Randvi was lonely in her marriage. Even when they came to England and Sigurd’s neglect only got more pronounced, Randvi’s dissatisfaction grew louder. The idea that her own feelings could be reciprocated was beyond her.</p><p>But they were. And she had more or less admitted to having them, too. Even if she had refused Randvi’s advance, she had admitted to Randvi that the feelings were there. Something she had not admitted to anyone since that day with Valka. Would things change now? Would Randvi become distant to her? The very possibility was painful, producing a sharp ache in her chest. In the beginning Eivor had tried to put distance between them, but it had only made her feel worse. Being Randvi’s friend might not have been her dream, but it was enough.</p><p>It would have to keep being enough, assuming Randvi allowed it. Randvi was married to Sigurd, even if he did not deserve her. Eivor would not cross that line, she would not do that to Sigurd. Or to Randvi, if she was honest. While the other members of the Raven Clan might develop mixed feelings about the matter, there would be condemnation if Randvi stepped out on her marriage - doubly so if she did so with Eivor. Eivor would not set her up for such embarrassment. Besides, Eivor had come to the conclusion long ago that her life had one path, and it was the road to Valhalla. There would, and had been, redemption and revenge for her family, and now she would continue on her path until she found Valhalla. There was no room for a lover and marriage and family.</p><p>With a sigh Eivor patted Cab’s neck and left the stables. It had been insufficient to clear the heaviness from her mind. And while her instinct was to head into the longhouse and seek out Randvi, she found herself reluctant to follow it for the first time. So instead she wandered away from the stables and down into the rest of the settlement, toward the river. Despite not meaning to, she still found herself hovering near the longhouse. But before she could make a poor decision, Petra caught her attention. A perfect solution. She could go out hunting with Petra instead.</p><p>“Petra! Hej!” Eivor greeted her warmly as she approached Ravensthorpe’s most established huntress. They were big enough to have quite a few hunters now, but Petra organized them and led them on group hunts. Eivor loved joining them when she was home. Petra looked up and smiled back at her. A hunt might just be the perfect way to settle her mind. “Are you busy? I was thinking of going for a hunt.” Eivor walked over to join Petra where she was finishing her work on a hide.</p><p>“Oh. I was going to get in some bow practice, if you’d like to join me?” Petra smiled at her as she finished putting up her tools. In particular, Eivor enjoyed hunting with Petra. She was good company, absolutely unparalleled in her skill, and sometimes they got accidentally blazed on weird mushrooms and hallucinated a lot of fun shit. Usually a guaranteed good time. Eivor nodded at the offer. Bowe practice should be enough.</p><p>“That works for me. Anything to get away for a bit,” Eivor answered. Petra gave her a curious look, but did not say anything in response. And she still had her bow on her after her return from Besuncen Tor, so she did not even have to creep into the longhouse to get it. After a few minutes of waiting for Petra to get her own things ready, they set out toward the edge of the village where targets were set up for bow practice for villagers. Eivor pulled her bow from her back and leaned against the rail of the bridge while Petra set up the arrows. They both kept the silence for a few minutes before Petra broke it.</p><p>“Are you okay? You seem like something is bothering you?” Eivor blinked and looked to Petra, who was already drawing back her bow to fire a shot.</p><p>“I am well. Just… a lot of things to think about lately.” Eivor managed a smile for Petra. “And you know me, thinking is not my strong suit.” Petra laughed but shook her head at Eivor.</p><p>“We all know that is just a game you put on, Eivor. You’re plenty smart.” Eivor shrugged and lined up her own practice shot, letting the arrow fly easily. “But hey,” Petra cut in again, “how about a little competition? Really clears the mind, in my experience.”</p><p>Eivor nodded, happy to have the offer. Petra was not wrong about it helping to clear the mind. She lowered her bow and looked over to the other woman. Like an increasing number of people in the village, Petra was technically a new face, and not Norse at all. It hit Eivor suddenly that she was not at all certain what Petra believed. As far as she knew, Petra had never referenced Christ, so it felt wrong to assume she was a Christian as the Saxons were. Not that it was particularly important. Ravensthorpe was becoming quite the blended settlement, with Saxons and Norsemen living in near perfect peace. The biggest barrier so far seemed to be Holger’s compulsive inability to ask before taking things that were not his.</p><p>“First to ten?” Eivor offered up the terms and Petra nodded to accept them. Eivor moved closer to the baskets of arrows set up and waited while Petra got ready. When she was, they both counted down and then started. Eivor fired off her shots as quickly and accurately as she could, but archery had never been her strongest skill. She was passable at it, and able to use it a fair bit in combat, but she tended to overthink lining up her shots instead of just going with it. So it was not a surprise that Petra beat her by two shots. Still, Eivor groaned at her loss. She was going to be taunted for this.</p><p>“I think you need more practice, Eivor,” Petra teased her, true to form. Eivor bore it with good nature and simply grinned at Petra.</p><p>“I would not wish to become so good that I shame our Master Huntress, would I?” Petra snorted at her as she started to clean up. Eivor let her bow rest against the railing and then hopped over, retrieving their arrows from the targets. Gunnar would repair the tips so they remained sharp, but they were practice arrows, so it was not a priority. When she climbed back up onto the bridge, Petra was done cleaning up the area and packing up her things. Petra helped Eivor check the arrow tips and they dropped them back into the bins gently since they were all still sharp enough to serve their purpose.</p><p>Eivor fell into step next to Petra easily as they headed back into the settlement. That tight feeling her chest returned as Eivor looked up at the longhouse, so she directed her attention back to Petra as they walked. Eivor frowned a little at what she saw. The easy smile was gone from Petra’s face, replaced by a look of nervous frustration. As they came to a stop in front of the small hut Petra shared with Wallace, Eivor turned to face her.</p><p>“Petra, are you well? You have a sour look about you.” Eivor’s forehead wrinkled in concern as Petra turned to face her. She could not remember ever seeing the woman looking this off except when Wallace was missing. And she could hear him working inside the hut, so that obviously was not it.</p><p>“Eivor,” Petra spoke softly and Eivor felt a spike go through her. She had heard her name said that way before, and she knew she was not going to like what followed. Eivor could feel her entire body tighten as if preparing to accept a blow. Petra did not seem to notice. “I wanted to tell you… I have feelings for you, Eivor.” Eivor felt her heart sink in her chest painfully and she found herself staring blankly back at Petra. It had been so long since she had been in this situation, and she had never known quite how to handle it.</p><p>“I…” Eivor opened her mouth only to clamp it shut again quickly. Her mind raced to try and find a way to handle this without hurting Petra. She had never heard of such a thing, but she was a little bit hopeful. Still, she could not just stand here in silence forever. “I… I am sorry, Petra. But my heart… it ceased to belong to me a long time ago.” Eivor found a weird comfort of her own in the confession, but it did not ease her own feelings when she saw pain flicker across Petra’s face. “You are a very dear friend to me, Petra.” Eivor made herself stop talking again, not sure how to say anything without feeling like she was making it worse.</p><p>“No, it is okay, Eivor. We feel how we feel,” Petra answered, but it still seemed clear to Eivor that she was a little hurt. Eivor did not know how to make that any better, and she felt like a coward for wanting to flee the situation. “Can I have a bit of time?” Petra asked softly. “Just to get things sorted.” Eivor nodded and was disgustingly grateful for the opportunity to retreat.</p><p>“Of course, Petra.” Eivor hesitated for a second, and then retreated quickly. With everything with Randvi also feeling weird and off-kilter, there was only one place she could think to go at this point. Dwolfg fell into step with her, licking her hand in soft greeting, as she headed out to Valka’s. It was a lot closer to the settlement than Svala’s home had been to Fornburg, but that just made this all more convenient. She did not even knock when she got there, just heading inside as she was long accustomed to. Dwolfg stopped at the doorway though. The lanky wolf rarely followed her into any of the buildings except the long-house.</p><p>“Valka?” Eivor peered around the dim light of the home carefully. It was a bit odd to not find her home, but not enough so to be alarming. Valka was often out collecting the plants and other materials she used for her tonics, treatments, and potions. But after a moment of silence, Eivor heard something, and exited out the other side of the house. Valka was sitting on a log at the edge of the water of her small pond and waterfall. It was still one of Eivor’s favorite places in the settlement and she was glad she had chosen it for Valka. “Valka,” Eivor kept her voice soft, “am I intruding?”</p><p>“No,” Valka turned her head to look back at Eivor over her shoulder. She turned her attention back to the water and Eivor walked down to the water to join her. As she settled on the log next to Valka, Dwolfg reappeared and settled in the sand next to Eivor’s legs, dropping her head heavily onto Eivor’s lap as if it was too much of a burden for her to carry any longer. Eivor grinned at the wolf and reached down to gently scratch her ears. Just sitting here with Valka she already felt better, less burdened. That was part of the magic of Valka, in her opinion, just like her Mother. There was always something soothing about both of them.</p><p>Eivor closed her eyes and let the sound of the waterfall wash through her. The warm press of Dwolfg’s head on her lap, the soft English breeze blowing over her skin. It was so peaceful here, and she treasured the feeling. Already she felt unburdened, but not completely. Eivor never felt completely unburdened. But it was better here, in the silence with Valka. Sometimes she wondered how different things might have been if Svala had adopted her instead of Styrbjorn, if Valka were her sister instead of her friend. Some things would have been very different indeed.</p><p>“What is bothering you, Eivor?” Valka’s voice cut easily through the silence, managing to not be jarring in the way most voices were when they came without being expected. Another of her truly unique qualities. Perhaps it was part of being a seer. “And before you claim nothing is, I know you have been warned about lying to a seer.” Eivor could hear the smirk in her voice, but she turned her head to study Valka’s face anyway. Then she let out a sigh.</p><p>“I took Randvi to Grantebridge to get away for the day. She…” Eivor closed her eyes and she could feel Randvi’s lips on her own again. It had been such a fleeting kiss, almost timid, but she swore it was as if she were branded by the heat of a forge. If it never happened again, she would never forget the way Randvi’s lips felt. If only she had also been able to taste them. “Randvi told me she has feelings for me. Romantic ones. And she has for a while.” Eivor stared down at Dwolfg’s head and heard Valka inhale a deep breath next to her. Valka was the only soul who knew her secret, the full truth of it. Well, and Dag, but he was hardly a friend. She suspected Birna had put the pieces of it together, but they did not speak of it. Valka was the only soul she knew that she trusted without question to hold her secrets.</p><p>“I see,” Valka answered carefully. “And what happened?”</p><p>“She kissed me. Well, she kissed me first, and then confessed, but still… I… I told her this was not the time for such feelings.” Eivor’s pain and confusion leaked into her words. She had tried to make herself tell Randvi that she did not feel the same, she had tried so hard to be honorable. As she always strived to be. But in that moment she could not bring herself to deny that deeply hidden part of who she was. And her love for Randvi was part of her now, it had been for years. “She apologized but… Gods, how am I supposed to go on. I’ve known for… years, that she was unhappy, lonely. Sigurd is a fool to leave a wife so devoted the way he does. He does not see her truly, I think. But that does not relieve my own obligation, my responsibility. Fool or not, he is my brother. Maybe… maybe when I see him in Oxenefordscire I can convince him to come home and stay. That would be best-”</p><p>“Eivor. Stop.” Valka cut her off and Eivor slumped slightly, her fingers disappearing into the thick fur of Dwolfg’s neck. She realized in that temporary silence that her breathing was shaky and uneven. She had not realized how worked up she was getting. Eivor forced herself to take a few deep breaths and calm her nerves.</p><p>“This is something you will need time to process, but it seems to me that you have handled it appropriately. Knowing how Randvi feels is one thing, but only you can decide what you will do with it. And you have made the best decision you could for now.” Valka reached out and placed a gentle hand on the back of Eivor’s neck. It was a weirdly affectionate gesture Valka had learned from Svala, and it always seemed to soothe Eivor’s worst nerves. Eivor let out a soft breath and relaxed slightly.</p><p>“There is more though,” Eivor admittedly sadly. “When I came back, I went to work with Petra. I thought it would clear my head.” Eivor sighed a touch dramatically. “Apparently she has feelings for me as well.” But before Eivor could let her mood sink further at the very recent memory, Valka’s soft laughter pierced the heavy fog she was drawing around herself. Her eyes snapped up in disbelief but sure enough, there was Valka, visibly struggling and failing to contain her laughter.</p><p>For a solid minute at least Eivor just gaped at her. She was here pouring out all of her heart and the heaviness of this all and her oldest friend was laughing at her! It was so… rude. Eivor huffed at her loudly and then leaned forward until she could grab a handful of sand and pebbles, throwing them at Valka’s chest.</p><p>“Stop that! You ass! I am serious!” This only made Valka laugh harder for another solid minute, loud enough that Dwolfg grumbled in complaint at having her nap interrupted. Eivor scratched her ear gently to mollify her. “I’ll sic my wolf on you.” Valka just snorted at her, but she did finally reign in her laughter.</p><p>“I am sorry. You were simply so grim about it. How heavy a burden to be so honorable and pretty every woman within a hundred meters swoons as you walk by,” Valka was still teasing her, and Eivor was still pouting in response to it. But she also knew it was working. It was a little absurd, and having Valka point out that absurdity made it a little easier.</p><p>“While the bit with Randvi is, obviously, more complicated, I think you shall survive Petra’s attentions just fine. As I recall, before you met Randvi, you had a handful of very earnest suitors pursuing you. You have turned down many a good offer of marriage in your time, Eivor.” Eivor flushed red at the comment but it was true. When Sigurd married Randvi she had been juggling the attentions of a few women, and a young man who was not getting the hint at all. Ultimately, she had simply told all of them that she would never marry and they had moved on.</p><p>“Yes but… this is different. Petra is my friend. And Randvi-”</p><p>“And Randvi knows how you feel, from what you’ve told me. You have been open with her, enough to let her know where she stands. Whether she wishes to change that is now entirely up to her.” Eivor considered that. A part of her did hope that maybe the door was still a little open to that ending. She could not see a path that led there, but it did not mean one did not exist. And so she found herself nodding in agreement with Valka.</p><p>“Thank you. That does help. And Petra-”</p><p>“Petra already has the attention of at least one other. Your friend, Birna, seems to have taken quite an interest. I was not clear on why Petra was ignoring it, but perhaps she simply did not see it. Now her eyes are newly opened, and she may see the different paths laid out before her.” Eivor was a little surprised to hear that. Birna and Petra? Seemed weird to her, but who was she to judge. Petra was beautiful, and ambitious in her own way. Birna did like her women smart, powerful, and motivated. It could work.</p><p>“Huh. I wonder why Birna did not say anything.” Eivor leaning back slightly, letting the weight of Dwolfg’s head on her lap keep her from falling backwards.</p><p>“Perhaps because she was unclear where Petra’s interests lay. Either way, I suspect the darkness of this moment will pass relatively quickly, Eivor. And as for you and Randvi… the circling continues unabated for now.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Paladin’s Stone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Happy Valentine's Day!</p><p>Scene 1:	Eivor takes Randvi fishing away from Ravensthorpe.<br/>Scene 2:	Eivor revives from her visions of Asgard with an additional memory.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
  <span>25 Heyannir, 875</span>
  <span> (Týsdagr)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor placed the small crate of supplies onto the skiff and stepped back, taking a quick inventory of everything she had loaded. Inside the crate there was enough food for two for the day, and several jugs of mead, all nestled safely into a couple blankets if they were needed. Next to it were several fish hooks and lengths of fishing line. It was not her favorite pastime, but it was a peaceful one, good for when someone needed to think. Or talk. Since everything was in place, she turned and headed back up to the longhouse to find Randvi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As expected, she found Randvi bent over the Alliance map, making small changes and studying implications. Or whatever it was she did. Eivor knew she was intelligent, but Randvi made her feel stupid. Not in a malicious way, but in an accidental sort of way, just in the fact that Eivor could barely grasp onto the information Randvi seemed to find so easy to keep and manipulate, let alone try to replicate her results. It always left her a little stunned to watch Randvi stare at maps for an hour and come away with a whole new idea. She could do the same with a battlefield or a raid, but it did not feel the same. Randvi seemed to conjure ideas from nothing, as if magic. And then she just passed along the credit for it like it wasn’t important. Sometimes Eivor wondered if she was the only one who saw it, and the very idea made her both proud and sad. Randvi deserved to be known for her wit and wisdom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Randvi,” Eivor broke the silence when she realized she had been staring at her for longer than she meant to. The sound of her name drew Randvi’s head up from the map and she offered a small smile to Eivor. Everyone’s smiles were smaller, tighter, more strained, in the wake of Sigurd being taken. Well, not everyone’s. Half the settlement would only know Sigurd from Gunnar because they knew Gunnar so well. But still, the people were sad and concerned. None more than herself and Randvi. Still, it felt so natural and easy to smile back to Randvi. “Come. I am getting you away from this for a bit.” Eivor had promised herself on her way back to Ravensthorpe that she would not let Randvi’s confession interfere with her promise to Sigurd and herself to care for her. And if the trip to Grantebridge had taught her anything, it was that Randvi definitely needed to be away from her map table more often.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eivor-” Randvi started to protest and Eivor cut her off quickly. Randvi was very good at convincing her of things, but she would not let her mind be changed on this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I already asked you earlier if there was any new information and there isn’t. Staring at maps in this dim room won’t make it appear. A few hours away will settle your mind a little.” And let them both process what had happened away from the constant scrutiny of the settlement. “Come,” Eivor motioned for Randvi to approach, but she was not surprised when Randvi did not move. “A bit of fishing and then we can both come back and be properly miserable.” Eivor waited and then relaxed when Randvi sighed and moved away from the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well.” They walked together down to the dock and Eivor watched as Randvi stepped off the dock onto the small skiff. She followed a second later and then removed the ropes that held it in place, shoving it off the dock as Randvi sat down on the far end of the skiff. Eivor grabbed the pole and pushed them out into the middle of the wide river. Then she turned into the current and began to push them upstream. It would make getting home more relaxing if they could simply drift back down to the docks. Her eyes dropped from the skyline down to Randvi, facing away from her and into the soft breeze that flowed around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun was bright, hidden sporadically by clouds. But at this moment, it was shining down on Randvi. Eivor smiled at the way she turned her face into the sun, clearly enjoying the warmth of it intermingled with the cool breeze. Randvi always looked so radiant in the sunlight. It reminded her a bit of the first time she had seen Randvi, peering over Styrbjorn’s shoulder from the rearward position he had assigned her as Randvi and her parents stepped off their longboat. It was the only time she had ever been foolish enough to take Randvi for a quiet, reserved woman. Stoic, yes, reserved, absolutely not. That made her smile and she chuckled softly to herself as she continued to push the small skiff up the river.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s funny?” Randvi asked, looking back over her shoulder at Eivor. It made the Wolf-Kissed’s heart seize in her chest and she swallowed hard. She knew Randvi did not mean it in such a fashion, but it seemed to be such a beckoning gesture, calling her closer. Like a moth to flame. Eivor realized she had not answered Randvi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I was just thinking that there was a time when I thought you were shy and quiet.” Eivor’s answer was met with Randvi’s gentle laughter. Despite the breeze and the water streaming beneath them, the sound seemed to envelop her and she loved it. Randvi’s laughter was one of her favorite sounds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? How did you ever believe that?” Randvi was still watching her. Truth was, it was because Styrbjorn had kept her busy away from anything to do with Sigurd’s wedding. Despite being, ostensibly, Randvi’s impending sister-in-law, Styrbjorn had not involved her in any of the bridal preparations. His argument had been that Eivor herself was unmarried, which was technically a good reason. But she had chafed at it at the time and she still chafed at it now if she bothered to think about it. Sigurd and Randvi had gotten married just as the rising star of the Wolf-Kissed drengr was finding its place. Eivor had always wondered why Styrbjorn was so distant with her, but reasons had seemed to pop up as she got older.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In my defense, I stopped believing it the first time you ever spoke to me,” Eivor laughed gently back, forcing out thoughts of Styrbjorn. She had enough dark thoughts of Sigurd to deal with right now, she did not need to keep obsessing over a man she had left on a far away shore. The first time she had truly spoken to Randvi had been the day of her wedding, at the party after. It was a pretty intense conversation for two people who were strangers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Well, that does make more sense then. I was quieter then.” Eivor could tell from Randvi’s tone that she was thinking about her wedding. Or at least, she could make a good guess at it. She sounded just the tiniest bit sad. Eivor steered the skiff toward the shore where a large tree was bent over the edge of the river.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This looks like a good spot to fish,” she said, hoping to disrupt the line of thinking she had caused. Without waiting for a comment from Randvi, she jumped down into the shallow water and grabbed one of the ropes from the skiff. It took her only a minute or so to wrap it around the mature tree and tie it off. Then she returned to the skiff and pushed it back out. They floated out toward the center of the river, caught in the current, and then the rope caught and stopped them from drifting away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A good spot,” Randvi commented simply. She was shifting onto her knees to turn around, pulling out the small nets and the fishing lines Eivor had packed. The two of them worked in silence for several minutes as they set things up. Eivor did enjoy fishing, and she knew Randvi did too, but she had to wonder if either of them was really invested in it. She certainly was not. Whenever she let her mind wander, it found its way back to Oxenefordscire. And to Sigurd’s bizarre behavior. Eivor finished laying out her lines and nets, then sat down carefully on the skiff to rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor had chosen not to tell Randvi about Sigurd’s behavior in Oxenefordscire. She had given Randvi enough negativity to brood over, the last thing she wanted to do was add more. Randvi did not need to know that Sigurd had surrendered himself, or that he was raving about being a god. But even as she sat in the sun with Randvi, her mind tumbling over her justifications, she called herself a liar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sigurd had lost faith in her. Somehow, in the months apart, while she travelled England trying to unite it under a banner of friendship, he had decided she had become untrustworthy. As much as she tried, she could not find what she could have done to make him think so little of her now. She probably should not have punched him, but he should not have spoken about her Father like that. It had felt like being stabbed in the chest, for Sigurd, of all people, to weaponize her Father against her. Eivor clenched her jaw against the rush of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. Her Father had loved her. He told her that all the time, how proud he was of her. What Sigurd said was not true. It could not be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But why had Sigurd lost so much faith in her? Eivor had only been doing what he asked of her. While he was in Oxenefordscire she had secured alliances with Soma in Grantebridgescire, Oswald of East Anglia, Stowe and Erke in Lunden, and even travelled to Vinland to put an end to Kjotve’s line by killing Gorm. Maybe that was it? It seemed odd that Sigurd would begrudge her that final act of vengeance, or that he would even know about it. From what she could tell he was not communicating with anyone in Ravensthorpe while he was away, which was his normal. It did not make any sense that he would be mad about Vinland. And his ramblings, the fits of madness he was suffering under. Sigurd had always thought highly of himself, son and heir of a King. Maybe the madness had always been inside of him, lurking, waiting to come out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eivor?” She looked up as if startled when Randvi’s voice cut through her thoughts like a knife. Randvi’s forehead was wrinkled in concern and she shifted closer to Eivor, reaching out. “You are going to lose your line.” Eivor felt as if she was under a spell as she watched Randvi’s hand dip into her lap and pick up the fishing line she had dropped. She accepted it from Randvi’s fingers, still silent. When she looked up again, Randvi was looking at her in concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Eivor?” The amount of concern she could hear in Randvi’s voice only made her feel worse. She was sitting here, moping about her hurt feelings, while Randvi was worried about the safety of her husband. Well… maybe, she was. No, just because Randvi had kissed her and confessed to feelings did not mean she would be so disloyal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” Eivor started to answer but she realized she had no idea what to say. She would not tell Randvi about Sigurd’s bizarre behavior, she would not push that off onto her. “I just have a lot on my mind,” she mumbled pathetically. She dropped her attention back to her hands, where she now held the thin fishing rope. Her attention was pulled back up when she felt Randvi’s hand settle on her shoulder instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It will be okay, Eivor. We will get him back, I trust that.” There was so much worry and trust in Randvi’s face, it made her feel a little bit worse. Maybe she should be honest with her, tell her about how Sigurd was behaving in Oxenefordscire. But it did not feel right. It felt like complaining that he hurt her feelings when he was missing, possibly being tortured. Maybe she could talk to Valka about his bizarre claims of godhood. Maybe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I will not rest until I find him, Randvi. I promise.” Eivor’s treacherous stomach flipped in that second, from the relentless guilt that had followed her home, to the sudden and overwhelming desire to kiss Randvi. Bringing Randvi out had been a mistake. She should have gotten Birna or Petra to do it. But chastising herself did nothing to quench the liquid fire desire coursing through her veins in this moment. “I promise,” she made herself answer, trying to crush her feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi nodded and shifted back away from Eivor, giving her some space. Silence lapsed between them again and Eivor found herself watching Randvi out of the corner of her eye. The way the sun caught the angles of her face, made her skin glow. She remembered what Randvi had said at Besuncen Tor and found herself imagining it now. Randvi with sea salt on her lips, her skin darkened by the hours in the brilliant sun, hair damp and snarled by the wind. It was an inviting image. Eivor suddenly wished she could take Randvi raiding with her. To charge into the fray side by side with her. To sing victory songs as they sailed, and to drink and boast over the flickering flames of a late night fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a different world, what might they have been?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p><span>05 Tvímánuður, 875</span> <span>(Frjádagr)</span></p><p>
  <span>Eivor sat, silent and thinking, on the floor of Valka’s hut. She pulled her legs up so she could rest an arm over her knees as she watched Valka move around the hut, working quietly. There was some ethereal peaceful quality to Valka’s hut that Eivor was so happy had transferred from the Seer’s hut outside Fornburg. Then again, maybe the energy came from Valka herself, and that was why it was present in both places. Maybe it was a Seer thing, because Svala had radiated the same calmness. It always soothed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But for the moment her mind kept calling back to the one part of her vision that she had not been comfortable sharing with Valka. If the visions were supposed to give her guidance, she was not sure she approved of the direction this one seemed to be steering her in.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Havi paced through the dimly lit hall of Asgard’s palace, one of the few private places left to them. They needed to clear their head away from the others. There had to be away through this negotiation without sacrificing Freyja. This Builder was a presumptuous clod, meddling with beings infinitely greater than himself. Havi was </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Sigtýr, the Gizurr, the Sviðurr! And they would not be bested by some weaver of traps!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Angan Friggjar.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The soft voice echoed in the empty hall, drawing Havi’s head up. They smiled, recognizing the teasing voice, calling their name.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Angan Friggjar,” Havi’s name echoed again, and this time they followed the sound. A dark alcove, near pitch black, summoned them. Without hesitation, Havi stepped into the darkness and was immediately welcomed by the press of Frigga’s body against them. Frigga’s arms, slender but strong, slid over Havi’s broad shoulders, pulling them closer and further into the darkness. Havi responded in kind, letting their hands slip easily over wide, soft hips. The pair of them met a wall, stopping their fall into darkness. And now Havi kissed her, finding her lips with practiced ease in the darkness.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing lit Havi’s body like the softness of Frigga’s lips against their own, the warmth of Frigga’s body pressed so tightly there was no room for air between them. This was where both of them belonged, tangled up each other.  Frigga was so soft and compliant under Havi’s touch, and it drew Havi’s hands up her sides to her waist. Frigga moaned into the kiss and Havi savored the muffled sound of it. After the shortest eternity, the kiss broke reluctantly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Uðr,” Havi whispered into the darkness, Frigga’s lips not even inches away. “I have needed your touch,” Havi confessed, bringing their hands up from Frigga’s thighs to smooth their fingers over her hair instead. In the near perfect blackness of the alcove all Havi could really see of her was the smallest hint of red to her hair. But in the sun, Havi knew, it would shine hotter and redder than any flame. “You were not at the high table with the others.” There was only a hint of question in Havi’s voice.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Listening to Freyja and Tyr shout down Thor on matters of war is hardly  my idea of time well spent,” Frigga answered softly. “Besides, you know how my presence exacerbates Thor’s protective nature.” Frigga ran her fingers through Havi’s hair, her voice gentle and teasing. “He is his Mother’s son, as much as you may dislike it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Havi laughed roughly at her tease and leaned in again, catching Frigga’s lips in a new kiss. For a blissful moment, all thought of the Jotuns, the Builder, that cursed prophecy, faded away. Such stresses always faded away when Havi was in Frigga’s embrace. She was the stable rock upon which all that was Havi rested, the immovable bosom from which all strength grew. Frigga broke off the kiss with a soft nip to Havi’s bottom lip.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I suppose I can allow you that, given the boy has his Father’s strength and wit. I will allow you such a concession,” Frigga’s laughter wrapped around them both like a second embrace and Havi let themself be lost in it for a moment. “Still, I wish you were present more often. I would much like to be a </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Faðmbyggvir Friggjar in every second of my day.” Havi pushed soft strands of hair back from Frigga’s obscured face. Even without being able to freely look upon her beauty, Havi enjoyed it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes well, aside from my previously stated issues, your Queen is not overly fond of me these days. You do realize that attempting to hide a prolonged love affair from </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Valfreyja</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> is, perhaps, a doomed endeavor?” Havi groaned loudly at the mention of Freyja but they were not as bothered as they sounded. The union with Freyja was as stable as it could be, and neither party believed it to be a love match. It had ended the wars and that was what mattered. Still, there was a certain level of propriety required to be respectful.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Very well, this one time Sigtýr shall concede, but only to the worthy foe that is my Uðr. You shou-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Havi!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The shout echoed across the cold stone and Havi frowned at the interruption. Fortunately, it was not Loki’s voice - as it nearly always was - but instead the boom of Thor. Not that it was that much better, considering Thor was unaware of the continued affair. Still, at least if he caught them out he would not be inclined to use the information to his personal advantage the way the trickster would.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Havi!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Havi groaned loudly in complaint, earning an indulgent laugh from Frigga. She pushed Havi away gently, putting air between them at last.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Go,” Frigga prodded gently. “I will see you after the moon rises, in our usual place. Now go.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor sighed heavily and shook her head. How was it that memory of her vision that seemed the most potent? But even as she rolled the question in her mind, her stomach gave a treacherous answer. She knew why. Randvi was why. No matter what, Randvi would have always been why. Eivor could still remember the way lightning and thunder had surged through Havi’s body at the touch of Frigga’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Never in her life had she experienced a kiss like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that painfully brief touch of Randvi’s lips on her own, as they floated above the lake on the crumbling ledge of the tower.. It had been close. If she closed her eyes and remembered, she could feel it starting to build, only to be sucked away in Randvi’s embarrassed retreat. Eivor moistened her lips with her tongue as she remembered the lingering taste of Randvi on her lips. It had been so faint, leaving her only with a hunger to taste it better. And her honor, the last shred of which she clung to with fingers she could feel slipping more every moment. Eivor sighed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there something more, Eivor? Or are you sighing like that for your own amusement?” Valka’s dry remark cut through Eivor’s thoughts and she looked up at the seer. It was embarrassing all over again to know she was caught out. Mooning like a baby after all these years. Randvi’s confession was not helping, but she had already made that decision. It was not a path that was open to her, and she needed to accept it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was another part of the vision. Just a moment…” Eivor shook her head, not wanting to discuss it. But at the same time, she did. And Valka was the only person she could be truly honest with about the subject. “Odin was having an affair with Frigga. I could not see her face, but her hair… the way it felt… I definitely knew her. Not Odin, but me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> knew her. It made me think of Randvi.” Eivor said the words softly and let the silence close around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eivor,” Valka started, but she stopped as Eivor scrambled to her feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I do not want to hear about it, nor will I be lectured,” Eivor fumed loudly, anger filling her up from somewhere. She did not even register the startled expression on Valka’s face as she started to pace furiously in the hut. “He is my brother. And I have given my oaths. I will not break my word. Nor would I ever induce another to break theirs.” The words left her in a tumultuous rush and she felt like she might explode. “It does not matter what Randvi said. I will not betray my brother!” Eivor slammed a fist on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough.” Valka’s voice was sharp enough to cut through Eivor’s angry reaction. She looked up at her and then lifted her hand almost shyly from the table. “Eivor, I was not going to lecture you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will not betray Sigurd, not for anyone or anything.” It had felt like stabbing herself in the stomach to say it, though from Randvi’s reaction her own pain had not been so obvious. And they were still friendly. From the outside looking in, their friendship seemed unchanged. But inside it felt like she was coming apart. Eivor shook her head roughly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is pointless,” Eivor muttered, still angry with herself. “I thought this would help, but it has not. I need to focus on finding Sigurd.” Without looking at Valka she walked out of the hut.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Odin/Havi has too many godsdamn names! I’m surprised one of them isn’t “God of Names”. Anyway, here are the meanings of the alternate names used in this chapter.</p><p>Sigtýr = God of Victory; alternate name/title for Odin/Havi<br/>Gizurr = Riddler; alternate name/title for Odin/Havi<br/>Sviðurr = Wise One; alternate name/title for Odin/Havi<br/>Angan Friggjar = Delight of Frigg; alternate name/title for Odin/Havi<br/>Uðr = Loved, Beloved, Striver (Technically considered a name/title of Odin, but here Odin is using it for Frigga)<br/>Faðmbyggvir Friggjar = Dweller in Frigg's Embrace; alternate name/title for Odin/Havi<br/>Valfreyja = Lady of the Slain; alternate name/title for Freyja</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Book of Dragons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Scene 1: 	When no word is quickly forthcoming regarding Sigurd, Eivor does not cope well.<br/>Scene 2: 	Eivor sings a lullaby to one of the children late in the night during a storm.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Brace yourselves for impact. This shit is soft as fuck.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>          30 Gormánuður, 875</span>
  <span> (Laugardagr)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor trudged into the longhouse to speak with Randvi, each step feeling as if she was trying to walk upstream against the rapids of a surging river. She could not remember feeling quite so heavy. Although she knew word had been sent ahead to Randvi - that she would already know about Coelbert and Ivarr - this was the first time she could remember not feeling happy to be home. Nothing felt happy, or victorious, now. Eivor did not even look up as she made her way into the map room, and even when she felt Randvi’s hand settle on her shoulder she could not bring herself to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eivor,” Randvi’s voice was soft, soothing. It made Eivor feel worse and she sighed heavily, leaning on the table with her hands fisted against the wood. Her entire body was tense, and she ached from having been so tense for so long. Even Randvi’s voice, which normally soothed away the worst of her feelings, did not seem to have an effect on her this time. A spike of pain pinged around her skull as she clenched her jaw again, grinding her teeth together. A slow, angry breath escaped through her nose as she stared at the map. In the corner of her eye she could see Randvi physically fighting the impulse to embrace her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eivor, I heard about what happened in Sciropesci-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has there been any word from Basim?” Eivor cut Randvi off. She did not want to talk about Sciropescire. Or Coelbert, Or Ivarr. Or anything that she could not do something about right this minute. Her powerlessness swirled and twisted inside of her like a maelstrom, threatening to drag her under. Eivor would not concede to this feeling, not ever. She had been powerless before, and she would never let it happen again. There had to be something for her to do. Surely by now Basim had finished tracking Fulke and Sigurd? How far could they have possibly gone? England was only so large.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence from Randvi was not comforting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor could hear the hesitation in Randvi’s voice and it, combined with the answer, snapped the last of her control. It was like an explosion went off inside of her and wiped everything from her mind. Eivor let out a loud snarl and lifted both hands from the table only to slam them back down again as hard as she could. Pain shot up from her hands to her shoulders and the table rocked dangerously. A wordless, furious shout ripped its way out of her. And then she did it again, even harder this time. Pain lanced through her again, the only thing that seemed to cut through all of the surging turmoil inside of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There has to be something!” The words came out unbidden and heavy with all of her impotent rage. It flowed like a river of lava, scorching her insides and her outsides as it spewed from her. Eivor slammed her fists down again on the table. She was so lost in the tumult of pain that she did not notice Randvi moving out of the room around her. Instead she kept venting, smashing the table in front of her even as the pain increased with each blow. Over and over again her fists crashed down on the maps and papers scattered over the table. First they scattered, the ones light enough to get away in the breeze created by her frenzy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After enough blows, the wood of the table started to crack. Splinters pierced her skin and blood splashed thin onto the maps as she continued. Rage and fear and helplessness flowed out of her in a violent cocktail that she could not begin to try to contain anymore. Blood splattered across the maps and onto Eivor’s clothing as she continued, not even close to running out of energy or emotion to pour into her destructive outburst.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>                           ----------------------------------------</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knud,” Randvi stopped short as she was exiting the longhouse, heading for Valka’s hut, the young boy heading into the building. She was rattled to her core and she needed someone to help with Eivor. Randvi had never seen the drengr lose control like this, and while she was confident that Eivor would not harm her, no matter how distressed, she was not at all confident that Eivor would not severely harm herself. “Where are you going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eivor’s back,” the boy answered, a vaguely insulting tone in his voice that seemed utterly out of place coming from one so young. They grew up entirely too fast. But when he went to move past her, she grabbed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now is not a good time, Knud. You can see her later.” Randvi frowned when Knud did not seem convinced. Shit, she needed a better solution. “Actually, Knud, can you go get Valka for me?” The boy frowned but nodded reluctantly and then ran off to find the Seer. No sooner than he left than Randvi heard the sound of something inside the longhouse break. She closed her eyes for a long moment and was turning to look back inside when she caught sight of Birna and Haldis. Maybe they could help?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Randvi!” Birna called to her, but whatever expression Randvi was wearing must have alarmed her, because the warrior’s face quickly changed. Randvi watched them in silence as they approached, eyes darting toward the interior of the longhouse. It was too bright outside to see what was happening inside, but she could still hear Eivor crashing around. “What’s wrong, Randvi?” Birna’s voice was full of concern now that she had reached her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eivor,” Randvi started. She knew Eivor and Birna were close, but she was not sure how Eivor would feel about her sharing something like this. But after a moment of hesitation she sighed. “It’s Eivor. She has… I have never seen her like this,” she motioned into the longhouse, where it sounded like Eivor might be starting to wind down. “I do not know how to help her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Birna and Haldis both glanced into the dark longhouse, listening carefully for a minute. Randvi watched as they turned away to share a look and then Birna tapped Haldis on the stomach faintly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can handle this,” Birna said easily to Haldis. “Not surprised she’s coming apart. I don’t think she slept the whole back from Sciropescire.” The smuggler shook her head as Haldis moved around her to enter the longhouse. “You’d best stay here. This won’t be nice.” And then Birna followed Haldis into the longhouse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi frowned and followed them into the dim light despite Birna’s warning. She did hang back though. Eivor was pacing across the far end of the longhouse and the throne was tipped over. While she had not known Eivor as long as many, she had never seen this kind of reaction from her. Momentary flashes of anger, the occasional slammed fist, a shout here or there. Usually followed by a calming effect and an apology. But this, it was as if something inside of her was snapped. Past the throne, Randvi could see that her map table was tipped over, papers scattered around the space. Birna approached Eivor first, with Haldis hanging back and keeping her distance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Eivor. You done?” Birna’s tone was not gentle or conciliatory at all, which surprised Randvi, but it was not particularly accusatory either. Still, when Eivor turned on Birna she looked more furious than apologetic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fuck does that mean? I need to find Sigurd,” Eivor shot back aggressively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, tearing up the longhouse isn’t gonna help with that,” Birna shot back and kept closing the distance between herself and Eivor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off, Birna,” Eivor growled at her. Birna just shook her head at Eivor and stopped, planting her hands on her hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Now, are you going to go lay down and get some rest?” Birna paused for a second. “Or do I need to put you to bed?” For a long, agonizing moment everything in the longhouse was still and silent. When no answer was forthcoming, Birna suddenly lunged for Eivor. Eivor jumped back, but Birna followed while Haldis tried to move around Eivor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi just watched in horror. How was this helping? How was a fight supposed to calm her down? Was this not just going to make her worse?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor swore loudly and reversed tactic when she caught sight of Haldis. Instead she lunged back at Birna and then both ended up on the floor. That was a surprise in and of itself, as Eivor rarely liked to get down on the ground and wrestle with opponents. Her speed was not an advantage on the ground. Randvi moved closer as Eivor and Birna rolled on the floor, grappling for control over each other. She could hear them both growling and swearing, hitting each other with verbal insults.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haldis was still just lingering nearby, and Randvi was a little confused as to why. Before she could think too hard about it though, Birna let out a loud grunt as Eivor finally won a solid position and pinned her down. Eivor pulled back a fist to hit Birna and before Randvi could blink Haldis was standing over her. Smooth as anything, Haldis stooped down and slid an arm around Eivor’s neck, locking it in place by bending her free arm over her wrist. Eivor’s eyes widened in surprise and she grabbed at Haldis’s arm, while jerking her body to try to leverage herself free. Haldis simply stood up, taking Eivor with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haldis was the only woman Randvi had ever seen who was taller than Eivor. Gods, she looked like she might even have some height on Sigurd. And she looked completely unbothered as Eivor struggled and clawed to free herself, even taking a sharp elbow to the stomach and more than a few heel kicks to her shins. Randvi watched in silence as Birna stood up, Eivor growing weaker by the second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes, Eivor was limp in Haldis’s grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s done, Haldis,” Birna answered and stepped forward, catching Eivor as Haldis let her go. Haldis shifted to help and they carried Eivor toward her bed. Randvi watched. She definitely should have just told them no and waited for Valka. But she followed them as they laid Eivor in her bed and then when they left her quarters she followed them again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was that helpful? I understand she is not breaking things, or herself, anymore, but did you really have to attack her?” Now that it was over, Randvi could feel herself becoming angry on Eivor’s behalf. Birna turned to look at her and frowned, shrugging slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She needs to sleep. Maybe there was another way, but I don’t know it. I’ve seen this before,” Birna answered simply. Randvi’s brows scrunched down over her eyes in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s been like this before?” Randvi had never seen her like this in Fornburg, nor since they arrived in England.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eivor?” Birna replied with a mild scoff. “No. She’s more balanced than she gets credit for, but in others.” Birna shrugged again. “She tries to carry all of it, and she feels like it is all her fault. This time it was too much and it got her all kinds of messed up. It’s the battle lust, really, except there’s nothing to fight. Not surprised it was this bad though. When she wakes up she’ll be calmer and she can work on it. But she’s too tired to do that now.” Randvi frowned a little at Birna’s explanation. She did not like it, but it did make sense.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Very well. Thank you, Birna. Haldis.” The two warriors nodded at Randvi and then left the longhouse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>                           ----------------------------------------</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi stirred beneath the heavy blankets and furs of her bed. Something had roused her and she was not sure what it was at first. Then she recognized the sound of a hammer on wood. But it sounded like it was in the room with her. Frowning, Randvi sat up and looked around her quarters. The sound did not stop, so she cast back the blankets and stood up, fixing her night dress as she headed into the map room. But the sight that greeted her made her stop in the doorway between the two rooms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor sat on the floor gently tapping the trestle legs of a massive table into the table top. The table itself was inverted, top side down on the floor, to make it easier to work with. She appeared to be focused intently on her work, so Randvi decided to simply watch her work for a bit. The only light in the room came from the flickering candles Eivor had set up around the space, so Randvi knew it was still the middle of the night. Well, that and the fact she very rarely ever overslept. She searched Eivor for any signs of the uncontrolled chaos she had released during the day, but there were none. Aside from the fact that she was up constructing a table in the middle of the night and the thin bandages wrapped around her hands, Eivor appeared completely normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eivor,” Randvi finally broke the silence as softly as she could. But Eivor was still startled and her head snapped up. There was a short return of the silence and Randvi smiled at her softly, even as Eivor looked away, clearly embarrassed. “Eivor.” Randvi said her name again softly. “Why are you building a table in the middle of the night?” She was amused, and she knew it was coming through in her voice. Eivor still looked a little embarrassed though and did not look up when she spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I owe you a new table,” Eivor’s voice was small in a way Randvi had never heard, and it brought her out of the doorway. She crossed the short distance to Eivor and sat down next to her on the wood floor of the longhouse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let us say that I agree with that, but why in the middle of the night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor looked at Randvi a little sheepishly out of the corner of her eye. The only other time she had seen Eivor look so shy was for a few days after Eivor had once walked in on her and Sigurd in a private moment. It had been adorable then too, although the circumstances were more humorous than dire. It did not take advanced thinking for Randvi to recognize that Eivor was feeling ashamed for her outburst, and she was not going to pile onto her for it. Even if it had been absolutely terrifying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should not be without a table because of me. I am sorry I woke you. I was trying to be quiet, but this leg is a tight fit,” Eivor gestured to where she had finally gotten the tenon of the table leg into the mortise cut into table top. “It is done now. I will get it set up and then not disturb your sleep any longer.” Her voice was still soft and full of unspoken apology. It made Randvi’s heart ache a little. “I already sent a message to a map maker in Lunden to replace the maps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi sighed softly and without thinking she reached up. Her fingertips brushed against Eivor’s temple and swept back in a feather soft touch, moving the loose hair back away from her face. Although she had not thought about it, and thus had not considered how Eivor would react to such a touch, she was very surprised at the reaction she got. Eivor seemed to almost collapse, as if Randvi’s fingers had sucked her spine out through her skin. The Wolf-Kissed drengr sagged forward, hunching on herself, and then leaned heavily into Randvi’s touch, her eyes closing. Purely on instinct, Randvi started to pull back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Eivor followed, seemingly unconsciously, chasing her touch until Randvi found herself instead cradling Eivor’s head against her chest. Silence swelled in the air around them, heavy with unshed emotion and unspoken words, but not uncomfortable. Randvi scratched her fingers gently through Eivor’s hair in a gesture that felt completely natural. Eivor’s breathing was calming. Gradually, Randvi moved her hand down to undo Eivor’s badly tangled braid, working all of her hair free. How long had it been since she had held anyone like this? Maybe Thora? Or one of her other siblings, before she moved to Fornburg and married. She had certainly never held Sigurd like this, such intimacy was not a part of their marriage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi continued to hold Eivor, surprised at how completely natural this felt. The silence had settled with some weight, but it felt more like the weight of a heavy blanket than a crushing weight. She was worried over Eivor, this was something she had never seen before, But instead of fixating on it she just kept stroking her fingers through Eivor’s hair and letting her weight press against her chest. It felt a bit like soothing a child, which made sense. So much of Eivor was still that little girl who’s world had just been destroyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was several minutes of silence, how many precisely Randvi could not even hope to guess, before she realized something was a little off. Her tunic felt damp, and she glanced down at the back of Eivor’s head. There was only one reason she could think of for why her tunic would be wet. And she was not sure if she should say something about it. The last thing she wanted to do was chase Eivor away from this. The drengr was clearly in desperate need of comfort. After a moment of indecision, Randvi decided to simply not say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry,” Eivor whispered into the silence, not moving. Randvi tipped her head down to study the back and top of Eivor’s head. It was all of her she could really see, but she could hear the tears in her voice. Randvi was careful to keep her touch the same as she fumbled mentally for the right words. She knew better than to dismiss an apology, especially one for a legitimate wrong committed. And, understandable or not, Eivor’s outburst had been wrong of her. Unable to find the right words, Randvi sighed softly and settled for the best ones she could find.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand, Eivor,” she answered her gently. “There has been entirely too much for anyone to handle alone. In the future, perhaps do not try to carry it all to yourself?” Randvi felt Eivor shift and feared she had said the wrong thing. But instead Eivor just shifted her hips away and slid down until she could lay her head in Randvi’s lap. Randvi smiled and let her hand rest gently on Eivor’s cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shall try,” Eivor responded. From this new vantage point, Randvi could see the tracks the tears had taken over Eivor’s cheeks, and the small wet stain her tears had left against her breast on her tunic. With a gentle finger she pulled a tear away from Eivor’s eye and then returned to stroking her hair. There did not seem to be a need to say anything more, and she was not of a mind to push it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For right now, this was enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>          02 Ýlir, 875</span>
  <span> (Mánadagr)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor sat on the floor of the longhouse, her long legs tucked under the furs next to the simmering fire of the hearth. The crackling of the logs was almost completely drowned out by the furious pounding of the rain on the high roof of the longhouse and the shrill wind that whipped around it. Much of Ravensthorpe was crowded into the longhouse for the night. It was safest and easiest in the face of such storms to bring everyone into one place. No worries about tents being washed away, or anyone catching a chill if rain water doused their fires. The sturdier buildings, or those housing animals through the storm, kept their own people safe through the night. She was on hearth watch, keeping the fires going and ensuring they did not catch and spread while everyone slept. It was peaceful work, but hard at times to stay awake through it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud rip of thunder made the timbers of the longhouse creak and whine - something she would see about having fixed when the storm passed - and Eivor looked up into the dark. Then Eira stirred and drew Eivor’s attention back down. Several of the older children had insisted on staying up with Eivor to keep watch on the fires, but they had all fallen to the call of sleep hours ago. Yet now, Eira was awake and in the flickering fire light Eivor could see raw terror and panic on her face. Possibly to her credit, the girl did not move from beneath her heavy blankets and furs that she shared with Knud. But after only a moment, Eivor reached out a hand to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here, sætur,” Eivor whispered into the darkness. Eira’s eyes flickered up to her and then she scrambled out from under her blankets and over to Eivor. They were less than a few feet apart, so it was a quick process. Eivor smiled and lifted up the fur she had over her legs, pulling it up further so she could wrap it protectively around Eira as the girl curled against her side. Knud stirred and mumbled in his sleep, but did not wake at the loss of his sister beside him. As Eira settled against her, Eivor smoothed her hair gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh,” she murmured tenderly. “It is okay.” Eivor looked back to the fire and felt Eira’s head nod under her hand. She let her hand fall so she could wrap her arm fully around Eira, holding her securely and ensuring the fur stayed up around her small shoulders. It left her own feet uncovered, but she did not mind. They were close to the fire, so she would not catch cold either way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor could remember bitter cold nights Heilboer spent at the hearth with her parents, clan members spread out on the floors around them. Everyone curled up in pairs or more under heavy furs to preserve as much heat as possible. The sound of hogs rustling their hay, chickens cooing softly on their perches inside the longhouse. They were somewhat fortunate that none of the animals had needed to join them within the longhouse tonight, but it had been a frequent enough occurrence when she was young.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She would curl up against her Mother, not unlike how Eira was curled against her now. Like Eira, Knud, and Sylvi, she would insist that she could stay up to help watch the fires, only to inevitably fall asleep. But she could close her eyes and hear the soothing hum of her Mother’s voice as she sang her to sleep. She could conjure up that feeling of safety, that pure and innocent trust that everything would be fine so long as she could still hear that song. The feeling was there, but she could not quite reach it. Eivor had not been able to reach it, no matter how far into the endless darkness she stretched her hand, in some nineteen years. There was nowhere safe in the world for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Little child, be not afraid / Though wind makes creatures of our trees / And their branches to hands, they're not real, understand / And I am here tonight”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor did not even realize she had begun singing, the sweet lullaby a common one from her childhood. Her Mother had sung it to her on stormy nights, and if not her, then she could often hear other mothers singing it. She looked down and found Eira looking up at her, watching her face as she continued to sing to her gently. It made Eivor smile a little as she sang softly, to see the trust and love that shone there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And someday you'll know / That nature is so / The same rain that draws you near me / Falls on rivers and land / On forests and sand / Makes the beautiful world that you'll see / In the morning”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The soothing words of the lullaby were so perfectly suited to a storm, and Eivor could see the effects already shining in Eira’s eyes. Her lids grew heavy and each blink of her bright eyes grew sluggish, increasingly less likely to reopen. Evior let her thumb gently stroke Eira’s cheek and the girl responded with a sleepy smile. Doubtless come morning she would be hot to deny that she was scared, or needed a lullaby, or enjoyed it. Such was simply part of growing up. But for right now, she was soothed. And that was what mattered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For you know, once even I was a / Little child, and I was afraid / But a gentle someone always came / To dry all my tears, trade sweet sleep for fears / And to give a kiss goodnight”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eira’s eyes were growing too heavy for her to hold them open now, though she was putting forth all her energy to fight it. A mighty little drengr, warring against sleep and pleasant dreams. Eivor remembered such feelings as well, tucked into the warmth of her Mother’s side, cloaked in the indisputable security of her strong arms. Safe and calm. Even then some tiny part of Eivor had understood it would not last forever and had sought to enjoy every second of it. She wondered if that was why Eira fought her return to dreams as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well now I am grown / And these years have shown / That rain's a part of how life goes / But it's dark and it's late / So I'll hold you and wait / 'Til your frightened eyes do close”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor watched as Eira’s eyes closed one last time and she felt her fully relax under her arm. She was finally asleep again. Eivor lifted her eyes back to the fire but kept singing. There was no reason not to finish out the lullaby. It was such a beautiful song. It even soothed her, though the voice that filled her ears was not her own. If she closed her eyes she could see her Mother standing over her, smiling. So she kept her eyes on the fire instead. And then she bent her head down and pressed a soft kiss to Eira’s hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just because she could no longer touch the eternal softness of safety did not mean she could not conjure it’s comforting presence for others.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>                           ----------------------------------------</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi rose quietly from the bed she had made on the floor at the head of the longhouse. She was due to take a turn watching the hearth fires, so she did not hesitate. Her own large bed was occupied with several of the women who had the newest babies in the village. They would benefit from the extra softness and protection more than she would. It took Randvi a moment to realize she was hearing the gentle melody of a lullaby and she smiled. That one of the children was having trouble sleeping was hardly a surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well now I am grown / And these years have shown / That rain's a part of how life goes / But it's dark and it's late / So I'll hold you and wait / 'Til your frightened eyes do close”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She picked her way carefully through the dim light and the bodies packed under furs and blankets upon the floor. Before she took up her post she wanted to find out who was singing. The voice was impossibly soft, almost enough to pull even her back to sleep. Whoever was singing, she had not heard them sing before, because she did not recognize the voice. Randvi did know the lullaby though. As she picked her way toward the main hearth where Eivor would be waiting to be relieved, she was surprised to not find the singer among the bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi stopped in the faint shadows when she realized it was Eivor who had been singing. She could see her more clearly now, and the dark hair of one of the children pressed into her side. That would explain it, but she was still surprised. Randvi had never heard Eivor sing so softly. Bawdy mead songs, sure. Skald ballads, a few. But this was an entirely different sound. It was beautiful, and tender. Almost fragile. As she watched, Eivor came to the end of the lyric and pressed a kiss to the child’s head before continuing toward the end of the old lullaby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I hope that you'll know / That nature is so / The same rain that draws you near me / Falls on rivers and land / On forests and sand / Makes the beautiful world that you'll see / In the morning”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in Randvi’s chest, no, everything in Randvi’s chest tightened painfully as the lovingly sung words drifted across the hearthfire to her like smoke on the breeze. It made her throat constrict and she found herself afraid to breathe for fear of disrupting the moment. Eivor was a protector, a caretaker, that would surprise no one. But to see the Raven clan’s mighty drengr, the Wolf-Kissed, Raven-Feeder, Slayer of Men, soothe a child’s fears away with all the tender grace of a practiced mother was another thing entirely. Such a thing would seem an impossible contradiction, and yet here it was in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi shifted her weight on her feet and Eivor’s head came up. Though the hearthfire provided only a flickering, inconsistent light, Randvi had no doubt that Eivor could see her through the fire and smoke now that she was looking for her. Their eyes met in the dim darkness, and Randvi’s breath caught again. There was no anger there, just something Randvi could not quite define. A sadness, maybe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything's fine in the morning / The rain'll be gone in the morning / But I'll still be here in the morning”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor finished the lullaby while still watching Randvi through the dim light, and when she was done she smiled at her. For a moment nothing changed, then Eivor waved her closer. Randvi felt an odd sense of guilt, as if she had been intruding upon a private moment. Despite the fact that Eivor was literally planted right in the middle of the longhouse. Still, she approached at Eivor’s acknowledgement, settling on a stool next to Eivor and leaning back against the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your turn already?” Eivor asked, tilting her head back to look up at Randvi. Randvi smiled and nodded back at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So it would seem. Or at least, I am awake, so you should sleep.” Randvi studied the way the fire played with the lines of Eivor’s face. But Eivor did not seem convinced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I can try then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, Eivor did not sleep, and instead they filled the rest of the watch with whispered talk between them.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sætur = “Sweet” in Icelandic</p><p>The lullaby Eivor sings in Scene 2 is Vienna Teng’s “Lullaby for a Stormy Night.”</p><p>To clarify, in case it was unclear, the verse in the second fic does not overlap or repeat. Instead there is overlap between the shifts in perspective.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Instrument of the Ancients</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Scene 1: 	Dag is an asshole to Eivor and Birna takes exception to this. <br/>Scene 2:	After the death of Dag, Eivor punishes herself.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>          08 Þorri, 875</span> <span>(Þórsdagr)</span></p><p>
  <span>Eivor entered the longhouse slowly, Birna and Haldis with her. She had not asked them to follow, but she had also not said anything about their recent hovering. Ever since her… issues after Sciropescire she had noticed the two staying much closer to her at all times. Part of her rankled at it, feeling it was an intrusion and a sign of distrust, but she was forced to acknowledge that it was more likely they intended it as a sign of concern and caring. And since she was not about to ask either of them about it, she was left with only her own assumptions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it was that the three of them entered the longhouse, and Eivor immediately laid eyes on Dag lingering there. Gods, could she not have an ounce of mercy? While they had never been close, she had long ago reconciled herself to being Dag’s somewhat reluctant friend. When he was not being a complete asshole, Dag could be wonderful fun. But whenever Sigurd was away, which was entirely too often, he became a problem. His refusal to join her in Cent still confused her, and his accusations stung. Eivor had no idea how to deal with him in a diplomatic manner, and the last person she wanted to see was him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that did not mean he would go away, or let her pass uncontested. It felt, at times, like his entire purpose now was just to stand in open defiance of her. And because he was Dag, and Sigurd loved and trusted him, she let it stand. It rankled, but she let it pass. Dag was just miserable because Sigurd had not taken him along with him, or left him in command in his absence. Eivor sighed heavily as she started toward the map room where she could already see Randvi waiting for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is he?” Dag cut her off, exactly as she expected him to. Eivor drew up short as Dag stepped up to her. He did not usually get so close into her space, and it only made her irritation heighten. “Where is Sigurd?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He…” Eivor started, but her tongue felt as if it was made of lead. The words did not want to come out. For a brief second she looked away. “He is alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But not with you.” Dag’s words rode the tail of her own without even a whisper of air between them. Eivor felt what tiny shred of patience she had been carrying wither away. “Where is he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dag, not now.” Eivor snapped at him and took a step forward. Dag did not move. “I need to speak with Randvi.” Instead of getting out of her way, Dag leaned into her space further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never found him, did you?” Dag snarled the accusation at her. It was the truth, she had not found him, and that was breaking her heart. Not that she would entrust Dag with such information. “Tell us, Eivor. We deserve the truth.” The regrettably small and petty part of Eivor wondered what ‘we’ Dag was speaking of. He stood before her alone, with no support. The rest of the Raven Clan did deserve the truth, he was right, but that did not mean they got to have it first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to speak with Randvi.” Eivor snarled back at him. The muscles in her shoulders and back were tensing already, her defensive instinct rising. Dag was always on her back, always accusing, first to notice even the slightest flaw. Normally he was much more private about it though. Or at least more subtle, masking his comments as jests. “Step aside. Now.” Her voice had hardened, the words an indisputable command.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did not move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never found him,” Dag hissed in her face, “because you didn’t look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor’s self-control was in severe danger of snapping, and the urge to rip Dag apart with her bare hands rising. Choking on her own anger and the snarl that was building up in her throat, she shoved past Dag, forcing him out of her way. Just because he had a right to know, which she would not dispute, did not mean he was entitled to know before Randvi. It did not mean he could speak to her in such a way. But she could not make him answer for his conduct. She could not do that to Sigurd, not when Dag was his closest friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see you, Eivor. I know what you are.” Dag shouted at her back. She closed her eyes and continued toward the map room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hej! Dag!” Birna’s voice was her normal, chipper tone. Eivor stopped mid-step and turned around, registering Dag’s face but more curious about the fact that Birna was now standing right behind him. Haldis was still back near the entrance. Dag’s lip was curled in disgust as he turned to face the other woman, only to be met with Birna’s closed fist slamming into his nose. Caught off guard, he stumbled back and doubled as he reached up to cover his face. Blood appeared between his fingers, flowing steadily where Birna had broken his nose. Eivor’s eyes widened in surprise and she tread back the path she had come, approaching the pair. The last thing she needed was for this to get out of control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You watch your mouth when you talk to Eivor.” Birna’s classic chipper tone was gone, replaced by one filled with menace. Dag was coughing around the blood that spread down his face from his nose, trying to keep his mouth clear of it. “Just because she lets you speak doesn’t mean you should.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Control your </span>
  <em>
    <span>tík</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Eivor,” the words were barely out of Dag’s mouth before Birna stepped forward and landed another hard punch to his face. Eivor was a little impressed, in spite of herself. Birna punched him straight through his cupped hands to land a second blow to his nose. This time it dropped him as he spun, hitting the ground hard. Birna laughed and shook the sting off her knuckles as she stepped up over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Control your mouth. It is creating debts you can’t afford,” Birna taunted him. But when she started to bend forward as if to grab him, Eivor intervened. Eivor grabbed Birna by the arm and pulled her back, glancing over to see that Haldis had moved a little closer. It was nice to feel supported, but this ultimately was not particularly helpful. So she kept a hand on Birna as Dag pushed up onto his feet and glared hatefully at both of them. Blood was splattered all over his face and hands now, as well as his tunic and the shoulders of his cloak. Birna had definitely hit him hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was silence between all of them as Dag made his way out of the longhouse. It was likely far from over, but Eivor could not help the warm feeling that spread in her chest slightly. People did not stand up for her, she stood up for others. It felt weird knowing that someone had stepped in on her behalf to settle a wrong done to her. Especially one she had not openly identified. Eivor was not stupid, she knew that a number of the raiders found it bizarre that she tolerated so much from Dag when she had never hesitated to defend her honor against others before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Birna,” Eivor opened her mouth, only to stop when Birna clapped her lightly on the shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax, Eivor. I understand, but just because he knows you will not strike back, does not mean he gets to say whatever he wishes. If he were so concerned then he should have come to Cent with us.” Birna smiled at her warmly and Eivor nodded slightly. Whatever the consequences of this were, she would bear them. Just as she bore all her burdens. But for the moment, it felt good. She felt a little less alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Birna. Now, I need to speak with Randvi.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p><span>          19 Þorri, 875</span> <span>(Mánadagr)</span></p><p>
  <span>Eivor stood over Dag’s grave, the shovel in one hand with the heavy tip resting in the dirt. She felt filthy, and exhausted, but also sick and twisted up in her stomach. The sun hung low in the sky behind her. She had worked through the night, digging the hole. The sun had been high in the sky by the time she finally put Dag to rest, and now she was done. Throughout her work she had not been approached or spoken to anyone. Eivor caught fleeting glances of Randvi, Birna, Hytham, and Haldis at various times, seeming to both keep watch and keep others from approaching. Around dawn Valka had stood and watched her for a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was better if they kept their distance. Eivor was not fit for companionship. Her mind felt sluggish and heavy, bogged down as if her head were full of water. Every muscle in her body ached, and nearly every inch of her was smeared with sweat and blood. Her light trousers and tunic were stiff with dried sweat and blood, except for where both were dampened by fresh sweat from her labors. The injuries from her fight had largely stopped bleeding, though she had pulled several of them open again while shoveling the heavy soil. Dag’s axes had hit true more times than she wanted to remember, and she had taken the beating. Eivor could not recall the last time she had taken such a thrashing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she had let him. In the dark, wearing nothing but the lightweight clothing she slept in, she had let Dag thrash out his rage on her body. His shield had smashed into her chest, leaving a pale wide bruise that spread deep beneath her skin. One of his axes had sliced across her side, just below her ribs, when she dodged too late to completely avoid it. There was weakness in her left shoulder where blow after blow had been blocked by her own arm or the haft of her axe. Another slice was dangerously high and close to her throat on her right side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the silence of the moment Eivor found herself questioning why she had let him take it so far. Once his challenge was issued there could be only one outcome. No matter how much she desired not to fight him, there was no stepping away from a holmgang called in front of witnesses. If he had laid down his axe, if he had changed his mind, what would she have done? She had offered him banishment, exile, and he had rejected it. Eivor let her mind sluggishly roll over his taunts and insults. The way she had let the fight lag, right up until the word coward left his lips. She was no coward, and with her own blood rolling down her skin, she had decided to end it then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Less than a minute later, or maybe it had been more, it was hard to remember already, she had been placing his axe upon his chest. Whether she liked him or not, whether he was right or wrong, Dag had been a warrior. He had fought for his clan, protected Ravensthorpe in her absence, and served his people well. It was not her decision whether the Valkyr would take him to Valhalla, but it was within her power to ensure they had no easy excuse to deny him. Dag’s fate lay in the hands of the gods now. For all his anger, for all the pain he had caused her, she did hope he found what he needed in the afterlife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor sighed heavily and shook her head, forcing the thoughts away. Dwelling over Dag’s grave would solve nothing. Ravensthorpe still had needs, Sigurd still needed to be found. There was too much to do to waste her time hovering over a body in the dirt like the Saxons did. So she lifted the shovel, the muscles in her arm protesting even that light weight, and made her way down to Gunnar’s shop. Without speaking to the old man she put the shovel back where she had found it, and picked up a hammer and other supplies from the basket where they were kept. As she left she caught Gunnar glancing at her but she ignored him, heading toward the new building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While she was in Cent, chasing Fulke and the shadow of Sigurd, several of the members of the settlement had come together to start a building for a proper grain farm. Their grain fields had grown big enough that there was need for real storage, as well as a mill to grind it, and perhaps some space for the family. Eivor picked her way along the path, eyes cast toward the dirt ahead of her. If anyone saw her, she did not notice them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dwolfg appeared just as she reached the site and Eivor smiled a little to see her faithful companion. It was enough to make her set the hammer down for a minute and kneel in front of the wolf. Eivor reached up and ruffled her fingers through the thick white hair around Dwolfg’s neck before bringing her hands up to scratch her ears. Dwolfg was not always fond of being touched, but Eivor was getting better at noticing when she was looking for a scratch. The wolf had been there during the fight, a thing that surprised her now that she had enough time to think about it. It was rare to see the ghostly wolf near large gatherings of people. But part way through her clash, Dwolfg had appeared near Randvi. When she and Dag had gotten too close, Dwolfg had snarled and snapped angrily at Dag’s back, driving him back toward the center of the circle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were protecting her, weren’t you, girl?” Eivor’s voice was rough, and she felt her words scratch through her throat. It made her realize just how dry her throat was. But she just continued to scratch Dwolfg’s ears and smile at the way it made the beast's eyes close in bliss. The crushing weight of the new memory settled into her chest again, the pressure of the eyes of Ravensthorpe on her. All of them. Everyone had been there, it felt like. Even the children hiding behind the adults and hoping not to be caught watching. But she could still feel their eyes, their deafening silence. Surely they knew her now, read her as Dag exposed her - fraud, glory hound, disloyal. Coward. Could they see into her heart? Could they see now, the thousand betrayals she had committed in her mind? Every time her heart skipped, her throat dried, her eyes wandered. Every time she let herself wonder if things had just been different… They saw her now, as Dag saw her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are a good girl, Dwolfg,” Eivor cut off her own mind. “At least I shall always have you,” she whispered so softly even she could barely hear it. Closing her eyes, Eivor leaned forward until her forehead was pressed against Dwolfg’s. “You believe me. You will always believe me.” She lingered like that for as long as Dwolfg would let her, which was not long. After perhaps a minute or so the wolf grew tired of it and pulled her head, nudging at Eivor’s face and then licking sweat from her cheek. Eivor gave her one last pat and stood up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Wolf-Kissed drengr surveyed the building site in front of her and then set about work. So far a patch of earth had been cleared and leveled for a floor, and cut logs lay nearby ready to be placed. Eivor set to work, dragging the heavy logs into place to create the shape of the building. Her body screamed in protest, but she ignored it. It was slow, steady, mindless work. Exactly what she wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Building up the walls took up the rest of the day, and Eivor continued to work as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon in a stunning display of pink and yellow light. In the darkness the work was even slower going, but once her eyes adjusted it was not so bad. The fatigue was getting worse, causing her to mess up and have to redo more of her work. At one point she nearly dropped a log on her foot. Dwolfg stayed nearby for most of it, wandering away only when the families ate their suppers so she could beg for bites from the children who spoiled her endlessly. Dandelion and Nali both made brief appearances as well, while Synin only flew by once in a while to ensure he knew where she was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few members of the Clan passed through as well. None came so close as the animals though. Winfred and Bertham had watched her work for a minute or two. Bertham had seemed like he wanted to say something, but he did not speak up. Gunnar had greeted her with a hello and then gone back to work when she did not answer it. Tove, Yanli, and Petra had all walked past a few times, which was a touch suspicious since it was out of the way for all three of them. But no one had spoken to her, aside from Gunnar’s attempt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But with the sun now long out of the sky, it was Valka who turned up first. Followed a few seconds later by Randvi. Eivor took note of both of them out of the corner of her eye, especially since Dwolfg - the traitor - had quickly hopped up from her nap to trot over to Randvi for attention. Attention she did not get, which served her right. But though she noted their presence, Eivor did not speak to either of them and instead kept working in the darkness. This went on for several minutes until Valka’s patience gave out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough, Eivor. You need to rest. And eat. Have you eaten today?” Valka did not bother to mask the irritation in her voice. As far as she could remember, Valka was essentially the only person who let her disapproval show quite so freely. Well, Styrbjorn did, but he never really showed anything else. Eivor sighed apologetically but kept going. If she quit working now she would lose her momentum, and that was the only thing keeping her going at this point. She would not stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eivor,” Randvi’s voice was softer, almost pleading. That was a little bit harder for Eivor to ignore, but she managed. She did not need pity. But then, she was not sure what she did need. Her reputation back, surely. The trust of her people. And that was something she did not know how to rebuild. Keeping on as if normal seemed her only path forward. “Eivor, please stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor cursed as she dropped a log, fumbling back to avoid having her feet smashed. For a second she wobbled on her feet, and then she bent over, propping herself up by pressing her hands into her knees. Fast as fire in a bed of straw, fatigue spread through her muscles. Eivor grunted in pain as her entire body stiffened in overworked exhaustion. She managed to glance up at Valka and Randvi just before her knees gave and she crumpled to the ground. In what seemed like only a second, both women were suddenly beside her, and Dwolfg was roughly shoving her snout against her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor simply lay there, feeling more tired than she could ever remember feeling in her life. Perhaps a bit kindly, Randvi and Valka proceeded to talk over her as if she were unconscious. They debated what to do with her first, feed her or put her to bed. After a few minutes of earnest discussion, they settled on washing her first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor grunted as Randvi and Valka both reached down and began to lift her up. Between the two of them they were able to carry her through the settlement to the sauna, not far from Valka’s own hut. Despite trying, Eivor was not able to do much more than hang limply between them at this point. It was still pitch black, with only the dim glow of a low hanging moon and the bright twinkle of stars to light the path. Well, and a few torches that still burned. Eivor struggled to remain awake even as she was being carried. Whatever bare bones energy her body had been running on was long gone now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another soft grunt escaped Eivor as they placed her on the bench in the sauna, pushing her against the wall so she would not slump over completely. Valka left to get food and water for her while Randvi efficiently stripped her of her ruined clothing. Eivor almost managed a smile as Randvi clicked her tongue in obvious disgust at how filthy they were, at how filthy she was. And then Randvi started talking to her, her voice soft but her disapproval obvious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand you are struggling, Eivor, but this is not the answer. Working yourself within an inch of death will not solve anything.” Randvi grabbed the bucket of water from near the door, normally used to keep the stones wet, and dunked a drying cloth into it. With a touch that was even softer than her normal touch, she started to wipe the blood, sweat, and dirt from Eivor’s skin. As always, she was especially careful around the new wounds Eivor wore. “When you have rested, we are going to speak on this. I want to help you, Eivor. You cannot punish yourself like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi kept talking, but Eivor stopped hearing her as she dropped her head against the wall next to her. Within minutes sleep had dragged her down into a vast and endless darkness. No dreams came.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tík = Bitch (Icelandic)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Lay of Hunwald</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Scene 1: 	Eivor buys Randvi a mare as an excuse to get her to take time away from her work.<br/>Scene 2: 	Eivor is haunted by nightmares that keep her from sleeping.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>          30 Einmánuður, 875</span>
  <span> (Týsdagr)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Randvi,” Eivor called out, drawing out Randvi’s name in a long, sing-song voice to tease the woman. Even though she could only just see Randvi in the map room she could hear her sigh heavily upon hearing her name. It brought a significant grin to Eivor’s face, filling her with a little bit of childish glee to see the obvious sign of low irritation. Sometimes it was just fun to rile her up a bit. She made her way through the longhouse and stopped at the entrance to the map room. “Oh, there you are! I was looking for you.” She wore a big innocent smile on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor was rewarded with a flat look from Randvi that further proved her annoyance. She already knew what was irritating Randvi, she’d done it on purpose. That soft sing-song of her name was always her “ask for forgiveness” voice that meant she had done something Randvi was not going to like. And that might be true in this case, but she was fairly certain she could spin it around. So she winked at Randvi and leaned against the thick frame of the archway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eivor, what did you do?” Randvi asked, her voice worn and tired. That just made Eivor more confident she was making the right call, even if it was undoubtedly going to annoy Randvi a little bit. Well, annoy her more. Eivor chuckled softly to herself as she continued to watch Randvi for a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing bad, I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is what you always claim,” Randvi shot back, but the irritation was already fading. Usually if she was trying to actually butter Randvi up she would have come at it more aggressively than this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it is almost always true,” Eivor shrugged and straightened, motioning for Randvi to come with her. After a second of hesitation, Randvi moved to join her. She stepped away from the door and started to head out of the longhouse with Randvi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is almost never true, Eivor. And you well know it.” Randvi’s irritation seemed to be gone, replaced by her own teasing tone. Eivor snorted at her but stil led Randvi out of the longhouse and up the hill toward the stable. She managed to get a bit ahead of her and turned around, walking backwards into the stable yard. Eivor smirked when she saw the expected consternation return to Randvi’s expression. It was going to be fun to watch her face change. Randvi had been entirely too grumpy lately, and Hunwald had come through for her on her plan to fix it. “Not another animal, Eivor,” Randvi complained softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have a little faith in me,” Eivor answered easily and turned around to face the stable. She stopped for a second, letting Randvi catch up to her and stop next to her. Then she flashed another smile at Randvi and winked at her before leaving her side to approach one of the stalls. Rowan had done well from what she could see, outfitting the mare with the exquisitely beautiful bridle she had also acquired in Lincolnscire. It was thin bands of leather with silver pounded into it, standing out starkly against the mare’s stunning black visage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor took the reins from the mare and she clucked softly at the horse, leading her out of the stall to walk her in front of Randvi. The mare was the purest black she had ever seen on a horse, no white markings anywhere on her and a dark but soft eye that still managed to sparkle out on her face. She smirked a little as the mare tossed her head lightly, bobbing it up and down, and from the other side of the stable Cab let out a deep, almost dragon like stallion call in response. He was such a stud sometimes. Then she turned to study Randvi’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi did appear impressed, looking over the midnight mare carefully. There was a hint of a smile on her lips and that was all Eivor needed to know she had won, even without speaking yet. Randvi played tough, but she was just as much of a sucker as Eivor. After a long moment, Randvi stepped up and offered a hand to mare, who pressed her nose into Randvi’s palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Another horse, Eivor? You already have Cab, and the grey. Just how many do you need, truthfully?” Eivor grinned at the shallow lecture in Randvi’s tone. She could not even manage to scold her fully at this moment. But she reached up and rubbed the mare’s neck with one hand. Rowan had put the bridle on her, but she was not saddled or prepared for a ride. As much as Eivor wanted to take her out with Randvi, the mare had only just arrived from Lincolnscire yesterday, and needed to rest from such a long trip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, another horse. But not for me,” Eivor smirked at Randvi, noting the way her face changed as she registered Eivor’s answer. It only took her a second or so to seemingly puzzle it out, and the look of tentative excitement on Randvi’s face made it so worth all of it. She gave the mare’s neck another soft pat. “Her name is Passelande, and she is the finest mare of all Lincolnscire. Hunwald helped me choose her, a gift. For someone sp-” Eivor cut herself off and her cheeks colored faintly. “Someone important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi was silent, still watching the horse. Eivor thought she looked a little… nervous, maybe? Unsure. It was a weird feeling that made Eivor’s stomach tighten in a way she did not like. Maybe she had misjudged, but she had been quite sure Randvi would love Passelande. And that her plan would work. Randvi opened her mouth slightly but still did not say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s for you, Randvi,” Eivor finally said when Randvi still did not speak up. To her relief, she saw the indecision on Randvi’s face replaced with pure joy. Eivor felt like her own smile might split her face as Randvi stepped closer to the mare and stroked the proud animal’s face, her fingers skirting along the lines of the bridle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eivor… she is beautiful.” Randvi’s voice was soft, and Eivor simply held the reins out to Randvi, letting her take the thin leather strips. She felt a swell of pride at Randvi’s reaction, at knowing she had chosen correctly. When was the last time she had even seen Randvi receive a gift? At Jul, surely, but aside from that? In Fornburg, Sigurd brought back treasures from his two year journey, but nothing truly personal. And she had brought Randvi a few small things from around England, but she had never made a production of it. Never bothered to tell Randvi how many things she saw that made her think of Randvi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is all yours, Randvi. Rowan will care for her, of course. But you know… she will need regular exercise to keep her good shape,” Eivor smirked faintly, trying to force her thoughts to stay in the moment. A flicker of recognition seemed to cross Randvi’s face. “So you’ll need to take her out for regular rides. I’d say at least every other day, once she’s settled in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, so that is your plan,” Randvi responded, her tone light and teasing as she continued to pet Passelande’s face. Eivor grinned back at her unabashedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is. Devious, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm. Quite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>          02 Harpa, 876</span>
  <span> (Mánadagr)</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hunwald! No!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor jerked awake. She blinked into the pitch darkness of her room, straining to see or hear. The hammering of her heart was the only sound that registered and she turned over onto her back. Dwolfg grumbled in weak complaint, sprawled across the foot of the bed, and Dandelion whined before jumping away from her pillow and curling up on the other pillow. Eivor sighed heavily and then sat up, dropping the furs and blankets into her lap. The air held the normal chill of night, and it prickled slightly at her exposed skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes of staring into the darkness, Eivor tossed her furs over Dwolfg and rose from her bed. She would not return to sleep for a while at this rate, so she might as well get up. The hammering of her heart was finally slowing down and she walked out to the hearths. Embers were still glowing hot, but the fires were allowed to die overnight. That still felt weird to her, even after years in England. But aside from the coldest of months here, the need for perpetual fires was non-existent. It still felt wrong though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Eivor grabbed a couple small logs from the collection and made her way over to the dying hearth. She poked the embers with one of the irons Gunnar had made for them, then piled the logs carefully on the exposed embers. As the embers slowly caught on the logs, she settled on one of the stools and leaned back against the table. It was calming to watch the fire spread and feel the heat increase, first easing through the fabric of her breeches before reaching her skin. It was almost enough to lull her back to sleep, but every time her eyes closed she was taken right back to the scenes that haunted her.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hunwald running through a battlefield of darkness to get to someone she could not see. His hand outstretched, desperate, seeking. And then from the darkness, an axe lands squarely in his back and he falls forward, dropping limp into the snow and mud. He does not move and she cannot reach him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hunwald in a dim cave, surrounded by his own blood. It coats her hands as she tries to find the source. He is choking on his blood as he tries to speak. She cannot find the bleeding, cannot help him, cannot hear him. And then he is gone, as still and silent as the darkness that surrounds them both.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And in each, Odin lingers in the darkness, on the fringes of it, watching impassively. Never helping her, turning away if she dares to ask, to beg.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor leaned her head back and stared up at the dark rafters of the longhouse. Just the memory of the nightmares was enough to make her heart quicken. She swallowed hard against the uncomfortable memory and shook her head, trying to dispel it. It did not work, however. Perhaps she should use a healthy portion of mead to make her sleep easier. That often worked quite well for her. But she found herself not moving, and instead her eyes simply returned to the fire that was now burning brightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How much time passed like that, Eivor could not say. But from the darkness she heard a sound and turned, surprised to see a flicker of candle light coming from the map room. With a frown on her lips she stood up and picked her way carefully through the dark longhouse. She could see Randvi at the table now, but was confused. Still, she tried to be quiet but not too quiet as she approached. The last thing she wanted to do was startle Randvi in the dark. Aside from being rude, she’d probably catch a fist to the face for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Randvi?” Eivor tried to keep her voice soft and quiet enough to not startle Randvi, but it was useless. Randvi tensed and looked up at her in surprise, but immediately relaxed. “What are you doing up?” Now that Randvi knew she was there, she walked into the room and stopped at the edge of the table. A studious look down at the map reminded her of how much she respected Randvi’s work. She would go raving mad if she had to stare at such still things all day. Of course, Randvi actually did far more than that despite her claims to the contrary. Randvi ran this village with admirable efficiency and fairness when she was away. Perhaps Randvi should be their Jarl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Eivor.” Randvi frowned at her slightly. “Why are you awake?” Eivor smirked faintly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I asked you first,” Eivor countered. After a moment of stillness, Randvi nodded in concession.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I simply woke. I often wake for a bit in the night and come to study things. It gives me a different perspective.” Randvi turned her attention back to the maps and seemed content to wait for Eivor to speak or for the silence to reign.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Eivor answered easily, and then let the silence take over. Randvi’s mere presence was soothing, and she felt much improved by it. For a few minutes it stayed like that, with both of them simply looking at the maps and not speaking. Eivor touched on a couple of the notes Randvi had laid out, inspecting the information.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You still haven’t told me why you are up, Eivor,” Randvi prodded gently. Eivor looked up to find Randvi studying her in the weak light. She sighed heavily and looked back down at the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I cannot sleep. I have… ill dreams, terrors.” Eivor felt a small weight come off her shoulders at simply admitting to it. The nightmares had plagued her ever since she left Hunwald in Lincolnscire. His constant writings had helped ease the worst of her anxieties - she and Swanburrow were getting updates from him almost daily - but she still felt as if she were obsessing over him. But she felt… responsible for him. It was ultimately her decision that had put Hunwald on a seat of power, one that had already been targeted by the Order once, and easily could be again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long has this been going on?” Randvi’s voice was full of concern. It made Eivor feel a little guilty, but she took comfort from it anyway. Still, she shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve had such dreams ever since my parents… but this time? Since I left Lincolnscire. Every night.” That confession made a weariness settle into her bones that she swore she did not feel a minute earlier. It was if the words had summoned all of the exhaustion she had been fighting off. “They will go away.” Eventually. Randvi shook her head and moved to stand next to Eivor, touching her arm gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is not enough, you need to sleep. Come, Eivor,” the gentle command chased away any protest Eivor could try to summon, and she found herself following Randvi back to her room. Dwolfg was sprawled across the bed, her nose at one edge and her butt nearly hanging off the other. Dandelion Puff was spread over the pillows. Eivor did not know how she was going to make either of them move. Randvi tsked loudly and both animals’s heads snapped up sharply. Without any further word or command both Dwolfg and Dandelion stood and exited the bed completely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Eivor stared after both of them. Dandelion darted out of the longhouse entirely, but Dwolfg simply padded a few feet away and laid down on the floor near the wall. She offered no resistance as Randvi guided her to the bed and then carefully, but forcefully, sat her down on the straw mattress. “Wait, how did you do that? She growls at me if I breathe too hard!” Randvi ignored Eivor’s protest and instead pushed her again until she was lying down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go to sleep, Eivor.” Was the only answer Randvi offered. She started to stand up and Eivor reached for her, grabbing Randvi’s wrist. Eivor did not know how to admit she was afraid to go to sleep and face her nightmares again. There was a moment of silence, but then Randvi seemed to understand and she just nodded. Then she pulled her wrist free and walked around the bed. Seconds later, Eivor could feel Randvi’s weight settling into the bed opposite her. Eivor reached down and pulled the blankets and furs up over both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a minute Eivor felt like she could not breath, and it only got worse when Randvi’s warm body pressed against her back, an arm sliding over her waist. They had swum together, fought in the ring, fought in real battles, spent hours in the sauna together over the years. And not that long ago, Randvi had held her while she cried in the middle of the night like a scared child. But this… this felt so different. It felt right, and that was terrifying. For a brief minute Eivor thought her heart was going to pound out of her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There,” Randvi whispered in her ear, her voice all softness and light. “Now… please sleep, Eivor.” And somehow, that was enough. Despite her panic, she found herself being quickly dragged into the sanctuary of sleep. Randvi was a solid, comforting warmth against her back, and the arm around her waist made her feel protected. The sense of peace in this moment was one she could not remember having ever felt as an adult. It almost felt like safety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>                           ----------------------------------------</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi tried to focus on anything other than the warm press of Eivor’s body against her own. Under the comforting weight of the blankets and the still night air, it was hard to find any alternatives, however. Despite her best efforts, her mind kept drifting back to the half-clothed woman pressed against her. It was not a position she had ever quite imagined herself in. Oh, she had let herself imagine what sharing a bed with Eivor would be like, but it had never been like this. Perhaps it had been foolish but she had imagined their positions reversed, with Eivor wrapped protectively round her. This felt weird, but right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had expected more protest from Eivor, but she was distracted from her thoughts quickly by the soft sound of Eivor slumbering. Randvi lifted her head from the pillow to stare down into the darkness where Eivor’s face would be. If only there were more light in Eivor’s room, she would love to see what she looked like wrapped in the peace of sleep. She had her suspicious that Eivor was even more beautiful at rest. Though it seemed difficult to imagine such a thing was possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eivor was singular in a way Randvi was at a loss to describe. She was a beacon to which all eyes seemed to turn, a central point they all revolved around. And Eivor did not even seem to be aware of it. Eivor was always chasing that sense of belonging so hard she did not even notice she had achieved it. It was one of the most tragic things about her. Randvi found herself lightly stroking Eivor’s hair with her free hand, still staring down at the dark spot next to her that was Eivor. She had known other people who managed to always be at the center of attention, but never anyone who seemed to effortlessly reflect it back the way Eivor did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Randvi leaned in over Eivor carefully. For once she followed her immediate instinct instead of suppressing it. She pressed a very soft kiss to Eivor’s temple, letting her lips linger against the smooth warmth of Eivor’s skin. Somehow it felt even better than kissing Eivor atop the tower outside Grantebridge. Only her worry that she might wake Eivor made her pull back, and she settled back against the pillow to sleep herself.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. A Breviary of Broken Hearts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This isn’t Eivor at her most likable… but she’s dealing with some stuff.</p><p>Scene 1: 	Randvi deals with an amorous Rollo. Eivor deals with it a little more vigorously than necessary.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>28 Sólmánuður, 876 (Týsdagr)<br/>Rollo arrived in Ravensthorpe only a few days after Eivor got home. Eivor was a little surprised to see him so soon, but was pleased nonetheless that he was there. The boy had a lot of potential as a leader, he just needed some better direction. He had come into his leadership role at such a young age. It was quite clear in Essexe that it had gone to his head a bit. A little bit of guidance and good modeling would help him find himself as a leader, and he would encounter a lot of good role models here in Ravensthorpe. Randvi, Birna, and Haldis were of course always present or nearly always present; and Soma visited from Grantebridge from time to time.</p><p>It had taken less than a day for Eivor to become irritated by Rollo. Overall he had settled in relatively well. Eivor had set him and his raiders to building an expansion of the barracks to house them all comfortably, and they had set about the task with acceptable vigor. She had helped, of course, and most of his raiders put in a full effort. Rollo was easily distracted, however. All it took was a woman walking past and he was distracted. No wonder his efforts in Essexe had fallen apart so quickly. Luckily, one of the women he had chosen to wander after was Birna, and she had nearly put him on his ass for his efforts. Not that he was crossing the line, but Birna had a low tolerance. Gods, she did not remember Sigurd being this persistently stupid when he was young.</p><p>Once they finished their day, the barracks partially complete, Eivor had invited Rollo and his raiders to eat in the longhouse. Not a feast by any means, but many members of the settlement enjoyed taking their meals together in the longhouse, especially at the end of the day.</p><p>And that was when Rollo set his sights on Randvi.</p><p>Rollo’s first attempt was actually respectfully subtle. They were all settled peacefully at the long tables, just starting their meal. Randvi seemed oblivious to Rollo’s fixed attention, but Eivor had little doubt it was a polite pretense. Aside from how very obvious Rollo was, Randvi was far more observant than that. So far they were all still eating quietly while the food was still hot, but she had a sense it was not going to last. And it did not. As Rollo finished his bowl of food, he leaned into the table a little and grinned at Randvi.</p><p>“What are you doing after supper, Randvi?” Rollo’s grin made Eivor’s hackles rise, but she kept a cool countenance and instead simply looked to Randvi.</p><p>“I am helping Tarben and then I have a few more reports to review before I take my rest,” Randvi answered easily before taking another drink from her mug.</p><p>“Oh? Surely there are more entertaining ways to spend your evening.”</p><p>“Actually, I find baking with Tarben to be quite engaging. We are attempting a new method this evening, so it will be exciting to see the results.” Randvi’s answer was delivered with all of her normal friendliness, and Eivor was still unsure whether she realized what was going on. Damn, Randvi was really good at this.</p><p>Her answer seemed to throw Rollo off just enough to make him falter for half a second.</p><p>“Well… perhaps when you are done with Tarben? A little company?” He was still leaning eagerly into the table, not at all put off by Randvi’s gentle rebuff.</p><p>“I will have plenty of company with Norvid and Sunniva. Your offer is kind, though.” Randvi glanced over to Eivor and finished her mug of ale before rising. “I am expected at Tarben’s. Eivor, finish your food,” the scold was gently but obviously administered and Eivor gave her a rude snort in response.</p><p>“I eat just fi-”</p><p>“You’d starve to death if I let you. Rollo, don’t let her leave until she’s finished.” And with that, Randvi walked away from both of them. Eivor normally would have watched her leave out of the corner of her eye, but instead she caught Rollo very blatantly staring as she left the longhouse. She was not stupid, she knew Randvi was a gorgeous woman. She knew it better than anyone, in her opinion.  But seeing Rollo look at her the way he did rankled, and it took considerable effort for Eivor to quash that irritation so she did not cause a scene.</p><p>                           ----------------------------------------</p><p>A few days passed before Rollo tried again. Or at least, before he tried again where others could see him. Most of the clan was gathered in and around the longhouse after replacing one of the main beams that had started to show signs of weakening. Eivor was off to one side of the longhouse with Randvi, reaching up to wipe sweat from her forehead, when Rollo approached. Without his shirt, as Eivor was learning was very much his normal, apparently. He acted as if he was completely unaware of Eivor’s presence, just to make it worse.</p><p>“Randvi,” Rollo greeted smoothly.</p><p>“Rollo,” Randvi answered. Eivor could have sworn she looked amused. There was a moment of silence where Rollo looked meaningfully toward Eivor, meeting her eyes. She acknowledged him, but made no move to leave. He at least had the decency to look a little uncomfortable. But not enough to stop.</p><p>“I was thinking, I could keep you company tonight, if you’d like,” Rollo’s attention pivoted back to Randvi as if Eivor did not exist. It was a little impressive. For her part, Randvi laughed softly and shook her head.</p><p>“I have all the company I need, but thank you, Rollo. That is very sweet of you.” Randvi did not seem bothered by his request and he excused himself before retreating. Eivor pursed her lips in annoyance, however. Once Rollo was away from them, Eivor turned her attention on Randvi, studying her in the mixture of firelight and limited sunlight that filtered into the longhouse. A sharp, painful ache settled into her chest as she imagined Randvi saying yes to Rollo’s propositions. Thought about Randvi alone with him, laughing, smiling, enjoying his attention.</p><p>Eivor grimaced at the treacherous thoughts and tried to force them out of her mind. Randvi was lonely, and Sigurd had been neglecting her for years without so much as a passing thought to her well-being. Just because he was gone against his will at the moment did not diminish his failure to be a responsible husband. And while she could not prove it, she knew in her heart and her gut that Sigurd had not let his own needs go neglected while he was away from his home and his wife. It was within his rights, but it chafed when she compared it to Randvi’s steadfast fidelity. And her own, if she was honest.</p><p>Randvi had given her the opportunity, had offered herself, and Eivor could not do it. As much as she had wanted to, in that moment, and every moment since, she could not bring herself to do it. Not when Randvi was married, not to Sigurd. She wondered if she could have done it if Randvi was married to someone else. If her husband was someone that Eivor cared about just a little bit less. Maybe. Not that it mattered, because Randvi was married to Sigurd.</p><p>She felt a little guilty at begrudging Randvi what happiness she could find. Randvi had done more for this clan than any of them, and her reward was loneliness. It was not right or fair. If she wanted to find a little time for herself with Rollo, who was she to stop her? Or to even question it? But it still rankled and sat in her stomach like a rock coated in poison. The idea of it made her want to retch, and it also made her want to hold Rollo under water until he changed his mind.</p><p>“You could do it,” Eivor found herself blurting into the silence between herself and Randvi. Her eyes widened a little in shock at herself and she considered the virtues of just running away. No, Randvi would just chase her.</p><p>“I could do what?” Randvi looked more confused than upset or amused, which had its own benefits, Eivor supposed. But she was still going to have to follow through now, because Randvi was not likely to let her get away with it. Eivor fidgeted and shifted uncomfortably.</p><p>“I just… no one would judge you if you took Rollo up on his offer,” Eivor managed to force her to say it without sounding like she was choking on the words, but some of her hesitation almost certainly came through. There was a brief silence between them and then Randvi laughed. It was a soft, gentle laugh of genuine amusement, and there was no malice or derision. That alone made Eivor relax a little.</p><p>“If I were interested, that would be good to know. But he is barely a man,” Randvi replied with a shake of her head. “He is not being rude or hurtful, so there is no need to be harsh in my refusal.” She smirked and Eivor felt her stomach do a weird flip. It was hard to tell if she was mad or jealous that Randvi was not rejecting Rollo outright. No no, it was definitely jealousy. That was not a helpful emotion.</p><p>“I suppose. Would it not just be easier to tell him to stop?” Eivor hoped her pleading hopefulness did not come through in her voice. Randvi shrugged at the suggestion.</p><p>“Perhaps. But I must confess… I am not at all bothered by his fondness for walking around without shirts.” Randvi’s tone was teasing, but also honest. Eivor felt her gut twist in outrage at Randvi’s admission but she could not do anything about it. And that last part was probably what hurt the most.</p><p>                            ----------------------------------------</p><p>Eivor laughed as Birna wrestled Haldis’s arm down onto the table, winning their arm wrestling fight. The longhouse was full of fire light and laughter as the feast wound into the late hours of the night. She drained her mug and motioned to Haldis to switch seats, slamming her mug down on the table. It should probably be her last mug of the night, if she was smart. As Eivor stood up and moved to take Haldis’ vacated stool, she caught sight of Randvi in the map room. Again. That was going to need to be rectified, but she could handle it in a minute.</p><p>“You’re going down, Wolf-Kissed,” Birna taunted her and set her elbow on the table. Eivor matched it with her own hand and grinned at her friend across the table. As she grasped Birna’s hand, her eyes wandered back to the map room for a second. Randvi was still there. She frowned and forced her attention back to Birna. Getting her ass kicked at arm wrestling would not help anything. Eivor met Birna’s gaze and recognized the knowing look she was met with. It made fire rush to her face.</p><p>“Prepare yourself for a little humiliation, Birna,” Eivor taunted back, trying to get that look out of her friend’s eyes. It did not work. Instead, while Haldis was counting down, Eivor saw Rollo slip into the map room. Her immediate reaction was one of irritation, followed by a searing flash of jealousy. Eivor remembered the not subtle pleasure in Randvi’s voice as she had admitted to enjoying watching Rollo shirtless. And she herself had encouraged Randvi to consider it. Because she was a stupid stupid idiot.</p><p>Eivor’s eyes widened in surprise as her hand was slammed painfully down on the wood. A startled yelp escaped her and her attention snapped back to what she was doing, only to find an equally surprised Birna and Haldis staring back at her. Birna let go of her hand and she lifted it off the table, stretching her fingers to ease the sharp pain in her knuckles. For a long minute nothing happened between the three of them, and then Birna’s face twisted to one of concern.</p><p>“Eivor, are you o-” Eivor jumped to her feet, cutting Birna’s question off.</p><p>“I’m fine,” Eivor answered and gently clapped Birna on the shoulder as she moved around her. “Excuse me, please.” Without bothering to worry about what it looked like, she headed for the map room. Rollo was still there, obstructing her view of Randvi. He was, unsurprisingly, without his shirt - though he had been wearing one earlier - and leaning both into Randvi’s space and onto one hand which one placed on the table. Whatever he said earned a laugh from Randvi as her head tilted back just far enough for Eivor to see her face over Rollar’s lowered shoulder.</p><p>Jealousy shot through her like a bolt of lightning. Rollo was not a bad sort. Young and brash and made up almost entirely of future bad choices, but not cruel or any more careless than was to be expected of his age. But Randvi was… Randvi was more. She was worth more than the continuous unwanted attention of a young man chasing nothing more than his own good time. Eivor did not have the words for what Randvi was, not even in her own head. The more time that passed, especially since their trip to Grantebridgescire, the more Eivor’s feelings about Randvi seemed to twist up inside of her. They had seemed so easy to ignore in Norway, to push aside and pretend they were not serious. But now…</p><p>Randvi was fast becoming the sunshine that lit her day, and the moon that stalked her nights. She was the warmth of the fire and the chill of the wind. The gentle prickle of soft grass, the soothing scent of a field of flowers. Randvi was everything, she was the light in a world of darkness. And just the thought of being without her made Eivor feel as if someone was asking her to stop breathing. It made her entire being ache. Randvi had long been part of her joy in coming home. The subtle play of relief she could read on Randvi’s face every time she stepped onto the dock, or walked into the map room. How Randvi would laugh when she told her of her adventures around a late night hearth, just the two of them. Just because she could not have Randvi, did not mean she would relinquish what she did have so easily, either. </p><p>This possessive feeling was new. Eivor had always valued her time with Randvi, but she could not remember ever feeling as if it belonged to her. And were she just a little bit less drunk, she would probably take a little time to think about that. But she was not, and she was so very tired of watching Rollo flirt in such a brazen manner with Randvi. Maybe that was why it bothered her so much, he just… did it. No attention or concern paid to who else was present, or if the setting was appropriate for such an overture. No mind paid to the fact that Randvi was a married woman.</p><p>“...just that I promise you would enjoy yourself-” Eivor almost stumbled into Rollo, cutting off whatever he was saying as she threw her left arm around his shoulders and pulled him back from Randvi. The gesture seemed friendly, if a little aggressive. But it was easily covered by her level of intoxication. Eivor flashed a warm grin at Randvi, who looked a bit surprised.</p><p>“Hej! Now, what are you doing hiding back in here, Randvi?” She ignored Rollo, but flexed her arm against the back of his neck when he made to pull away. All of her attention was on Randvi and making sure she was not upsetting Randvi by bursting in. As much as she had no desire to share Randvi with Rollo, in any context, she would not upset Randvi just to avoid it. Eivor was still sober enough to be mindful of that. But Randvi seemed to recuperate from her surprise quickly and simply smiled back.</p><p>“I came in to look at some notes,” Randvi answered. “And our good young man Rollo came to press his case.” Eivor felt white hot heat settle into her gut, burning like the heat of Gunnar’s forge. She did not look at Rollo, even out of the corner of his eye. “I was just explaining to him that while flattering, his interest is not returned.” Eivor nodded lazily and gave Rollo an affectionate squeeze of her arm.</p><p>“Poor lad. You’ll recover.” But Eivor had heard what he was saying, and if what Randvi was saying was true, it meant he was still trying to convince her. Persistence was a valuable trait, when appropriate. Eivor smirked at him and gave him another squeeze, this one a little bit harder. “But you, Randvi, need to stop working and go enjoy the feast! Always sneaking off to work. You must relax a bit. I promise to quit drinking for the night if you will go have fun.”</p><p>Randvi opened her mouth to protest and Eivor quickly used the one tactic that always worked. She let her face soften and her eyes dip a little, as if she was quite sad. It was not precisely a lie, as the thought of Randvi working through a feast instead of enjoying herself did make her sad. But more importantly, it seemed to be the one thing Randvi was utterly incapable of saying no to. And of course, it worked this time as well. Randvi promptly abandoned whatever defense she was going to make and simply sighed.</p><p>“Very well, Eivor. Though I think you’re already a bit too far in your cups to make such an offer.” Randvi smiled and bumped her shoulder against Eivor’s as she walked past her and Rollo to rejoin the feast.</p><p>“We will be out in a second. You should challenge Birna! She is all full of herself tonight!” Eivor turned only part way, watching Randvi leave. Gods but she was such a beautiful woman, no matter the angle of view. Once Eivor was sure Randvi was truly back among the clan, she turned her attention to Rollo fully. He looked nervous. As uncharitable as it might be, she enjoyed that look on his face for just a second. Then she tugged him closer, forcing him to bend down in front of her a little. It was very close to being a headlock.</p><p>“Randvi is a married woman. And you are drawing entirely too much attention with your flirtations. All of Ravensthorpe can read your designs.” Eivor pitched her voice low and full of menace. Rollo had gone still under her arm, and he was not fighting or resisting her in any way. “This is not Essexe, where there are no consequences for your choices. This is your Clan now, your family. When you pursue a woman, especially a married one, you will do so with more respect. In the meantime, find a new place to aim your interests.”</p><p>Without warning Eivor tightened her arm around his neck and brought her other hand up, slamming a closed fist into Rollo’s abdomen, just below his sternum. He let out a startled grunt as Eivor’s blow took all the wind out of him. Instead of letting him drop to the floor, which might attract attention, Eivor pushed him onto the map table instead to let him recover. She cast a glance toward the rest of the longhouse, but no one seemed to be looking. So she patted him gently on the back in a comforting manner.</p><p>“It’s okay. We all do stupid things when we’re young. You’ll get better at it.” And then Eivor left him there to get his breath back, walking back into the part. She grinned at the first sight she found, Randvi arm wrestling Birna exactly as she had recommended. The two were locked in serious combat, and Birna was looking a little nervous. Eivor walked up to them and pushed plates aside before sitting on the table to look down at their game.</p><p>“She is more fierce than she lets on, isn’t she, Birna?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Siege of Portcestre</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Scene 1: Eivor demands an apology from Sigurd for Randvi.<br/>Scene 2: Eivor overhears Sigurd and Randvi in the middle of the night.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm back! Sorry for the long delay, but I promise I have not abandoned you!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          17 Haustmánuður, 876 (Þórsdagr)<br/>“Go.” Sigurd spoke, and his voice was soft but the command of it was clear. “I wish to be alone. Return to my feast and drink for me. Celebrate the days to come in my name.” Eivor let out a slow breath and stared at his face. This was her brother. He looked like Sigurd, but the truth was he did not sound like Sigurd anymore. That snake of a woman had damaged something inside of him. She thought about refusing, about not leaving until she had better answers. Sigurd would just become angry if she did. Even before all of this, Sigurd had disliked not having his word respected immediately.</p><p>So with a sigh and one last sad look at Sigurd’s face, Eivor stood up. There was a weariness inside of her she could not define. A stiffness in her muscles, an ache in her bones, a sluggish pull at each of her joints. It was not physical, and yet it was. As if the pain and confusion in her soul was manifesting itself into her body. She was not tired, she knew how to identify - and usually ignore - that feeling. Getting Sigurd back was supposed to fix everything, but a sick feeling in her stomach made her feel like everything was worse now. His outburst in the longhouse, it did not make sense. And it had been in front of nearly everyone. Some of those people did not even know him! That would forever be their first memory of Sigurd, and it seemed unfair to both.</p><p>Eivor let out a slow breath as her mind tried to turn over all of the information. He had reacted to her as if she was his enemy, and outside that awful church in Porcestre he had called her something. Mad One. It made her throat tighten. She had heard that name before… in her visions as Odin, one of the others had called him the Mad One. What did it mean that Sigurd was calling her that? And suddenly reacting as if she was in his way, opposing him in any way. Eivor could not think of a single time in her life she had stopped Sigurd from achieving anything he wanted. And Dag...</p><p>She swallowed around the hard lump in her throat and cast a quick glance at Dag’s grave. He had not given her a choice. Eivor wanted to believe that he was challenging her because he was genuine in his belief, as hurtful as it was, but a significant part of her still believed it was about his ego. Dag had never liked her, despite her best efforts to consider him a friend. And she did miss him, missed who he was when he was not being a dick. But Dag had always seemed to resent her relationship with Sigurd, the confidence and esteem with which he held her. There had been so much jealousy there. Perhaps there was never going to be a different ending.</p><p>That brought her mind around to other issues at hand though. Randvi. If Eivor closed her eyes she could perfectly remember the shadow of pain that had darkened Randvi’s face when Sigurd insulted her so publicly. But it had arrived before the insult, just the sound of Sigurd’s voice aimed in her direction had caused it. And that made the sick feeling in Eivor’s stomach twist into something else. Indignation. Fury. Rage. Randvi had always been a woman to hide her unhappiness, and she did it well. So what had transpired in the short time between Sigurd’s arrival in Ravensthorpe and her own that had caused such a reaction. What had changed that Sigurd would speak of Randvi in such a way? Smear her, embarrass her, humiliate her, without a hint of shame for his actions.</p><p>
  <em>“My dear wife. Brought to me as a gift by her clan to pacify my ambition. Yes, I am sure she will be the one to tell me the truth.”</em>
</p><p>Eivor clenched her jaw and her hands tightened into fists at her side. No one talked to Randvi like that. Or about her like that. An uncomfortable tension built up in Eivor’s body as she replayed that moment over and over again in her mind. Sigurd had talked as if Randvi was a burden he was saddled with, a chain to bind him, a weight he had to carry. As if Randvi were something he could not stomach. Bile and anger rose up worse inside her, as unstoppable as the tides. Randvi, of all people. Randvi, who had sacrificed herself for duty. Randvi, who had shouldered all of Sigurd’s responsibility, in Fornburg and now England, so that he might chase the glorious destiny he had always seen writ large for himself. Randvi, who loved and labored over their people, who had made them her family. Randvi, who took endless shit and turned it into gold. Randvi, who deserved so much more than she had ever been given.</p><p>Something intangible snapped inside of her, like a line on a sail, and it slashed through her restraint like a knife. Fists still clenched at her side, Eivor turned around to face Sigurd. She managed to not approach him, which was for the best. If he was within reach she would cross a line that could not be repaired once broken.</p><p>“Take your time to think, Sigurd,” he looked at her as she spoke, but Eivor was surprised by how calm her voice was. “But when you rejoin us, you will apologize to Randvi.” Silence followed her words. They both stared across the now heavy air and it felt a bit like Sigurd was testing her resolve.</p><p>“Eivo-”</p><p>“No,” Eivor cut him off, and she saw his eyes widen slightly. “It is not a request, Sigurd. No one is expecting you to be as you were before all of this, but that does not excuse what you said. And in front of others. You will apologize to her for what you said in the longhouse, and whatever other things you have said to her since your return.” Her eyes sharpened as she saw recognition flicker across his face. She knew it. Between Randvi’s reaction, and her comment about him acting such since his return, she had known she was right. But now he confirmed it. Silence filled the air again.</p><p>“I will.” Sigurd conceded, but his eyes did not move away from Eivor. She felt like he was studying her, and it was a little unnerving.</p><p>“Good. She has been nothing but steadfast and loyal to you. You should recognize that.” And then she walked away from him before she said something more and gave herself away. Sigurd was home, and with his arm gone he was unlikely to be leaving again. Now things could be as they should be, and he could focus on repairing his marriage. Everything would be right in time.</p><p>Except for the bitter, treacherous feeling in her stomach that seemed to swell at the thought.</p><p>               ----------------------------------------</p><p>Eivor approached Randvi at the map table as the morning sun filtered through the protected hole in her roof. She had not felt this nervous about speaking to Randvi since she had returned alone following their trip to Grantebridge. But she was never one to run away just because she did not wish to do something. And she did want to talk to Randvi, just not this particular conversation. Which was why she hesitated at the doorway, listening for the sounds of Sigurd in his bedroom. There was no sign that he was present, and Basim was nowhere to be seen either. It should probably bother her that Sigurd was still leaning so hard onto Basim and not her, but at the moment she could not bring herself to care.</p><p>“Randvi,” she spoke up softly as she stepped into the map room, drawing Randvi’s attention. In that second it finally hit her that Randvi had not been staring down at her map as normal, but rather seemingly staring off into nothing. Randvi had never seemed to be prone to daydream.</p><p>“Eivor,” Randvi answered as Eivor walked in and stopped at the edge of the table. “What happened yesterday? You left to speak with Sigurd and when he returned he apologized for his behavior.” Eivor smirked slightly, but she was still going to check that he had apologized specifically to Randvi. “Then he went to bed without another word. But I did not see you return.”</p><p>“He apologized?” Eivor asked, skirting Randvi’s question for the moment. Randvi nodded.</p><p>“Yes. To the clan and to me. But he has not spoken to me since.” Eivor barely suppressed a smile at Randvi’s answer. She glanced down at the map and then shrugged a little.</p><p>“Good. His words were not acceptable. As for myself I… needed to think about what was said. I had many questions, but I got few answers from Sigurd. It still does not make sense to me, but I will continue to try.” Eivor sighed softly, curling her hand against the table into a relaxed fist. The truth was she had taken Cab and Dwolfg far out into the woods and fields of Ledecestrescire, until she was sure there was no chance anyone from Ravensthorpe would find her. And there she had screamed and drove her fists into the soil until all of her anger and confusion was spent. It was becoming an entirely too common practice for her since her destructive outburst in the longhouse. But at least she was able to do it alone, where none would be harmed. Eivor did feel better after, and she had spent the rest of the evening sitting beneath a tree and watching the sun disappear before making her way home again.</p><p>“It will get better from here.” Eivor said simply, and then shifted the discussion to more practical matters.</p><p>               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>          16 Gormánuður, 876 (Mánadagr)<br/>Eivor’s eyes snapped open, her entire body suddenly tense. Something had woke her up. For a second she did not move, letting her eyes register the pitch black room in which she slept. She could not immediately identify anything that would have alerted her. And so, after a minute she turned in the bed, reaching for Dwolfg, and disturbing Dandelion Puff who was curled tightly against the back of her head. The audacious little fox had stolen all of her pillows again. The wolf was not where Eivor usually found her. In the years she had kept her, Dwolfg had come into the habit of laying pressed against Eivor’s back, her head to the door and her damned ass to the pillows. In time, Eivor had come to realize it was a protective instinct, to have eyes in all directions.</p><p>But since her return from Suthsexe, Dwolfg had taken instead to laying spread across the foot of the bed. And she did not sleep, instead laying in a state of lazy readiness all through the night. Eivor found her instead sleeping during the day, usually curled up in the bushes beneath the Tree, or sprawled out on the floor of one of the farms, hoping for scraps. It was a peculiar change in the normally steadfast beast, and Eivor had an unkind suspicion that it was driven by Sigurd’s erratic behavior. He had taken an immediate dislike to Dwolfg. According to Randvi, when he had first returned with Basim ahead of Eivor and the raiders, Dwolfg had placed herself at Randvi’s feet and snarled at him quite fiercely. She’d evidently had to bribe the wolf out of the longhouse just to have a conversation with him.</p><p>Eivor was not so sure that Dwolfg was wrong, and she felt absolutely wretched for even having the thought. Sigurd had been through so much, and he was trying. He deserved a little understanding.</p><p>She sat up and reached down to her feet, finally finding Dwolfg’s stiff, thick fur in the dark. The wolf gave a soft grumble of acknowledgement and Eivor smiled. But then she heard it. A soft sound, barely audible from this distance. For a second Eivor did not process what it was, beyond that it was not the sound of a threat.</p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>Sigurd.</p><p>And Randvi…</p><p>Eivor felt her chest tighten in treacherous betrayal, her stomach flipping in angry sickness. She swallowed against the feeling and for a second she did not move. But when the sound reached her ears again she lurched angrily out of her bed. Nali hissed angrily as she was suddenly catapulted out of Eivor’s bed, having been curled up between her legs. That was another new change, Nali nearly always slept with Randvi. A confused whine from Dwolfg, and then the wolf was on her feet, padding after her as she stumbled out of her room in the faintest light. Moonlight highlighted the doorways of the longhouse, so she was able to make her exit quickly and without tumbling over something.</p><p>In the pale light of the midnight moon, Eivor sucked in a breath. The air had a chill to it, but nothing that she did not find refreshing. England’s chill really had nothing on Rygjafylke. And for a moment it was enough to simply stand there, letting the air surround her with its emptiness. It made it a little bit easier to ignore the twisting tumult inside of her. Eivor turned her face up to the moon, letting the soft light wash over her. Whatever this was, she needed to get rid of it, and fast. Sigurd was home, and he was going to finally fix his marriage. Randvi would finally have a husband she deserved, and things would at last be as they were always meant to be.</p><p>So why did she feel so angry? Why did every inch of her tremble with a simmering rage? All she had wanted was to bring Sigurd home where he belonged. And yet now he was here, and she felt cheated. The worst parts of her whispered of a future she had been just a single breath away from reaching. A future she desperately wanted, and had selfishly, dangerously, let herself imagine too many times. Sigurd held his wife, embraced her as he should, and it made her want to smash his face. In the stillness she was consumed by the desire to storm into the longhouse and tear Sigurd away from Randvi, to drive him from his own wife.</p><p>To take Randvi as her own. The very desire repulsed her, and her shame was at war with her desire. Randvi was not a possession to be claimed, a prize to be warred over and won. Randvi was the breath of life, she was the journey, the inspiration. The divine spark. But not hers. Eivor longed, with all the breath-stealing suddenness, to be back atop that sunken tower with Randvi. To pull her close, and hold her as if she belonged within her arms. Eivor wished to touch and explore every inch of Randvi, body and soul.</p><p>But it was not her place. And tonight she was reminded of that more than ever before. A trembling sigh, heavy with unshed tears, rattled its way out of her chest. Even with such unbearable pain, she lived yet.</p><p>Eivor shook her head and looked down at Dwolfg. She was probably imagining it, but the wolf looked confused to her. That made two of them. With a sigh Eivor looked out over the settlement. The river seemed to glow in the soft light of the moon and stars, and the many buildings they had erected sat like squat stones, anchoring the village to the world. This was their mark. Sigurd’s mark, technically. And yet from his rants it was clear he did not care for it. Eivor could not imagine not being proud of what it had become. There was sweat, and blood, and noble effort in every inch of this village. It was a most honest achievement.</p><p>“Come on, Dwolfg. It feels like the time to erase a few memories,” she spoke her pain into the night, letting only the wolf hear her. Dwolfg would keep her secrets for her. And she set off down the path toward Tekla’s small brewery. There would be something there to help her.</p><p>               ----------------------------------------</p><p>“For fuck’s sake, Eivor.”</p><p>Eivor groaned loudly and stirred. Her head was pounding like the loudest drums she had ever heard, and there was a foul taste in her mouth. Blinking her head she realized she was face down in the dirt. Well, that explained the taste then. She groaned loudly and started to push herself up off the ground, causing her stomach to revolt angrily against her.</p><p>“Gods… please don’t be so loud, Valka,” Eivor begged weakly. She managed to get her knees under her but realized she was still weirdly balanced. With a glance down her own body, Eivor realized that her feet were at the top of the steps to Valka’s hut while her face had been in the dirt. What a weird position to land herself in.</p><p>“I am not being loud, you have simply drunk yourself into a painful stupor.” Valka sighed heavily and stepped around Eivor, leaving her doorway to stand in front of the drengr. “Dare I ask when you did this? You retired early last night, as I recall.” Eivor just groaned loudly as she forced herself into a sitting position, trying to keep her bile down.</p><p>“It was late… I woke up… I don’t really remember,” Eivor grumbled. She looked around her and spotted Dwolfg lounging in the early morning sun. Faithful beast. Valka laughed at her.</p><p>“I should say not. I have not seen you quite so far in your cups in a long time. Whatever it was must have had you rather upset.” Valka’s voice softened. “Well, I am heading down to the longhouse, so you may linger here as long as you need. Do not drink from the steeping cauldron, it will make you sick.” Eivor huffed at her in acknowledgement and watched as Valka walked away. She was grateful that Valka never pressed for more.</p>
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